First Year
by atrfla
Summary: Alyssa "Aly" Salinger has waited her whole life to get her Hogwarts letter. When she finally does, she's so excited to go to the school of dreams her parents attended. But Hogwarts is different when she arrives, haunted by strange- and dangerous- happenings. Will Aly be able to figure out what is happening and fix the school? Read the prequels, Fifth Year and Fourth Year!
1. Chapter 1: A Prologue of Sorts

**Welcome to the first chapter of the third installment of the Salinger Year series-** ** _First Year_** **! If you're new to the Salinger Year family, welcome! If you've been with me through** ** _Fifth Year_** **and** ** _Fourth Year_** **, welcome back! This story was the most fun to write out of all three of them so far, and I think it'll be quite fun to read, too! So without further ado: witches and wizards, Muggles and Squibs, I present to you** ** _First Year_** **, by atrfla!**

From the moment I was born, I knew I was a witch. It was simple; why wouldn't I be? I had a 'blood traitor' wizard for a father and a pureblood witch for a mum. My mum and dad, Hesper and Benjamin Salinger, were so excited to have their "little bundle of joy" when I arrived into the Wizarding World on May 9, 2029. At least, that's how they put it when they tell the story of me. Alyssa Hesper Salinger.

Confirmation that I had inherited my parents' magic arrived early on in life. At the age of six, I was making my toys change colors. At eight I made the flowers in Mum's garden bloom- in the middle of the coldest winter I'd ever experienced. My parents weren't worried about Muggles seeing me perform what my father's American uncle called "kiddy magic"- after all, we lived in Rowena's Borough, an all-magical neighborhood. Only a few kids my age lived in the Borough- the closest being Millie Thresher, who lived just down the street. My only cousin on my father's side, Helen MacDougal, lived on the next street over. The three of us roamed the streets, flying on broomsticks and learning the rules of Quidditch, pestering the older kids about what magic school was like when they were home in the summer- like Kitty Willis, a pretty blonde girl three years older than me who lived in the grand house next door- and generally having fun. We all went to school, of course. All three of us attended the Borough Academy, a local little school taught by two retired Hogwarts professors, but the homework load was not very big, so we always had plenty of free time.

We were out enjoying a pocket of that free time during the summer of the year when we were all eleven when three owls suddenly swooped out of the sky. All three were big cream-colored barn owls, and all three carried letters of about the same size addressed in matching green ink.

Owls flying around the Borough were pretty common, so I wouldn't have paid them any attention but for that green ink. That piqued my interest, and I squinted at the closest of the owls, abandoning my broomstick on the ground. My dad would have been furious- he always told me to treat my broomstick like it was my most precious treasure. And it was- but if that letter was what I thought it was, soon I'd have an actual racing broomstick for my own to treasure.

The biggest owl landed on my arm, scratching me a little, and dropped its letter into my outstretched hands. Sure enough, the elaborate green script read:

 _Alyssa Salinger_

 _11 Wisdom Circle, Rowena's Borough_

 _London, England_

That was my name, all right, but virtually no one called me Alyssa- just Aly.

Beside me, Millie and Helen were also opening letters addressed to them. I tore open the envelope and took out the first of two pieces of parchment.

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF**

 **WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY**

 **Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall**

Dear Ms. Salinger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Damien Kayash

Damien Kayash

Deputy Headmaster

I had been right. My Hogwarts letter had finally arrived.

I sprinted back to my house, abandoning my friends and broomstick on the street, and burst through the front door of 11 Wisdom Circle. Like every other house in the Borough, our home was painted in varying shades of blue, which made for a pretty underwater look when natural light hit the walls. I stepped into the front hallway and then into my mum's home office, which was the first door on the right. She looked up as I flung open the door.

"Aly, dear? I thought I heard you slam open the front door. How many times do I have to tell you-" Then she caught sight of the letter in my hand. "Is that-"

"Yes!" I squealed.

My mum leapt to her feet, crossed the utterly neat room in a few short steps, and hugged me tightly. "Congratulations, sweetheart. I'll send news to your father right away." She sent her Patronus charm, a sweet little bluebird, away with barely a whisper before turning back and smoothing down my wildly curly hair with one ink-stained hand. "I'll make plans for a trip to Diagon Alley as soon as possible."

 **Short chapter, I know. Almost like a prologue, I think. Well, what did you think of the (short) beginning to Aly's years at Hogwarts? Let me know in the review box below! And, as always, thank you all for being such kind and patient readers!**

 **~atrfla**


	2. Chapter 2: Diagon Alley

A week later, I was standing on the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley, marveling at the twisting path lined with shops. I'd been in most of the stores before, but somehow the alley looked different when I had finally received my Hogwarts letter.

Just as I took a single step forward, someone running full speed slammed into my side. I was knocked to the ground, and the person fell on top of me but quickly rolled off. As my mother- who was traveling with me- gasped and fussed over me, the other person jumped to his feet and helped me up. His hands were small and nimble, with long fingers and bitten nails- for it _was_ a he, a boy who was just a bit shorter than me, with messy caramel-colored hair that shined in the afternoon sunlight and laughing turquoise eyes. I detached my hand from his and opened my mouth to say hello. Then he was off, running in robes that looked brand-new, with a slim oak wand sticking out of one pocket and an _Ollivander's_ box sticking out of the other.

 _A new wand? New robes? He's either rich, an exchange student, or in my year,_ I realized as my mum dusted me off and clucked disapprovingly ("That horrible boy! He runs into you, falls on top of you, and doesn't even bother to say _sorry_ or _excuse me_? Aly, dear, I _hope_ he's not in your classes… that's _exactly_ the type of person I want you to steer clear of!"). Focusing on the boy's wand, I expected to feel the familiar pang of jealousy that I always seemed to feel whenever I saw one of the Rowena's Borough kids waving a wand about, even if they weren't using it… but I didn't feel that. Instead, a new, energetic excitement thrummed through my limbs, and my eyes zoned in on the only wand shop in Diagon Alley. _Ollivander's_ , it was called, just like the name on the boy's box- even though Ollivander himself had died more than forty years before. Instead, a young woman named Gabrielle O'Cain- the slightly older and slightly less pretty sister of the new Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts, if the Borough rumors were to be believed- ran the store, designed and created the wands, and sold them to us wizarding children.

I tugged Mum toward it, nodding along agreeably but only half-listening to her complaints about the boy. This was _it._ I was about to get my first (and hopefully only) wand!

The moment I entered the store, I was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of wand boxes stacked on towering shelves. But movement caught my eye. To my right, a pretty woman with short, cropped red hair and rectangular glasses was collecting money from a short black lady with long braided hair and an even shorter girl with close-cropped dark curls who must have been the lady's daughter.

The redheaded woman handed the dark-skinned girl a short, thick box. "Here you go! Best of luck at Hogwarts, Miss Haven."

The girl and her mother, both beaming with pride, walked past us out of the shop. The wandseller turned toward us with a huge smile on her face. "Ah, hello! Starting at Hogwarts, I presume?" I nodded, and she reached out and shook both my mother's hand and mine. "My name is Gabrielle O'Cain, and welcome to Ollivander's, Miss…"

"Salinger."

"Welcome to Ollivander's, Miss Salinger. What can I do for you today?"

"Do you have any wands with dragon heartstring core?" my mum cut in, continuing proudly, "All the women in my family line have had dragon heartstring core wands, dating all the way back to Lyra Black, daughter of Regulus Black the First-"

" _Mum,_ " I hissed, flushing pink. _Yes,_ Mum was descended from Lyra Black, the bastard daughter of Regulus Black I (not that Death Eater one from the Second Wizarding War). It didn't mean she had to mention it in _every_ conversation.

"I just want you to carry on the tradition, dear," Mum finished lamely.

"Dragon heartstring is one of my most common cores," Ms. O'Cain said, her smile dimming slightly after Mum's bragging session. "Let's see…"

She pulled a slender wand box from a nearby shelf and held it out to me. I took the box and opened it, revealing a medium-size dark wand.

"Ten and three-quarter inches, oak wood, dragon heartstring core, slightly bendy," the wandseller rattled off. "This is one of my oldest wands- it's been here for nearly forty years, in fact." She gestured toward the wand. "Try it out."

I took it and hefted it in one hand. For such a small wand, it was awfully heavy.

Nothing happened, especially not the "glorious sensation" my mother had talked about when she had described holding her beloved wand for the first time. "Er…"

"Let me have that," Gabrielle ordered, slipping the wand and box from my hand. She dumped a different, shorter box into my palms. "Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring, nine inches, nice and flexible. This is another very old wand, even older than the last one. Go on, open it."

The pile of tried-and-failed wands grew higher and higher with each passing minute. It was high enough to reach the third towering shelf of stacked wands when Gabrielle climbed down off of her ladder and heaved a huge sigh. "Mrs. Salinger, we've tried so many dragon heartstring wands without even the slightest of reactions from any wand. Perhaps that core just isn't for your daughter. How about we try out a phoenix feather wand, or if you want a more unusual core, maybe one made with Kneazle whiskers?"

Mum drew herself up to her full height, which was actually still rather short. "Ms. O'Cain, surely you have _more_ dragon heartstring wands?"

"Yes," Ms. O'Cain admitted, "but seeing as we've tried so many and not provoked even the smallest reaction-"

"Unicorn hair," I interrupted. "My dad's wand has a unicorn hair core. Maybe if I can't have a wand from your side, Mum, I can have one from Dad's?"

Ms. O'Cain glanced toward my mother for confirmation that she was allowed to do so. Mum sighed like I was the most troublesome child in the world and then inclined her head slightly. "Fine," she grumbled. "If not dragon heartstring, then unicorn hair."

Ms. O'Cain perked up. "I know just the one. It's fairly new, so it's still in the back." She disappeared behind a precariously tilting shelf with a flip of her red bob.

"Must you be so _angry_ , Mum?" I whispered. "Maybe I'm not cut out for a dragon heartstring wand. We don't get everything we want, you know."

She fixed me with an exasperated glare. "Don't talk back to me, young lady. I _hoped_ you would have a Black wand, but you always did take after your father. Stubborn. Independent. A joker at heart." She pursed her lips. "At least I know you're smart enough to get into Ravenclaw."

Ms. O'Cain reappeared just then, carrying a very long and very skinny dark blue box in one hand. With her other hand, she carefully pried the lid off and lifted out the slimmest wand I'd ever seen. I fell in love with it at once. It was at least twelve or thirteen inches long and was so slender you'd think it would be whippy or flimsy, yet it stayed rigid and straight. The handle was slightly thicker than the wand itself, with little indents to tell me where my thumb and little finger should go. It was very plain, with no decorations, but it was a lovely golden-brown color, just slightly more golden than my curly light brown hair.

The wandseller slid it into my grasp. "Here you go, Miss Salinger. Fourteen and a half inches long, cedar wood with unicorn tail hair core, skinny but hard and durable."

I gripped the wood tightly, my heart beating slightly too fast, and waved it. Instantly the stick grew hot in my hand, so warm I almost dropped it, and a blue spark jumped from its tip. Then the wand sang, one loud and melodical note, and grew cold again. I glanced at Mum; against her better judgement, she was smiling proudly. I smiled too.

"I knew that wand would be perfect for you," Ms. O'Cain enthused as she took it away and packed it back into its box. "Cedar wands only ever choose those with strong character and unusual loyalty, as the wandmaker Garrick Olivander used to say. You, Miss Salinger, are destined for great things. Seven Galleons, please."

Mum paid her and we left, shopping for cauldrons and telescopes and books (we spent double the time in Flourish & Blott's than we did in every other shop combined, since I had to read through any book that caught my eye- so, pretty much all of them) as we moved up and down the shop-lined street. Even though Mum was still a little mad from the wand incident, we stopped at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour- the namesake of which was also long dead- and got ice cream. Mum ordered her favorite, strawberry and chocolate; I would have done the same, since I loved chocolate, but it was just too hot outside, so I got lemon. We did, however, forgo Weasley's Wizard Wheezes since Mum detested the place. "It's illegal at Hogwarts anyway," she huffed as she pulled me past the colorful storefront.

Finally, there was only one shop left. Eeylops Owl Emporium was a dark place full of owls that I instantly adored. I'd grown up with two grey brother owls- Dad used Addison, the grumpier of the two, while Mum's favorite was Geoffrey, the younger and more energetic pet. As much as I loved Addison and Geoffrey, I'd always pined for an owl of my own, and Mum had promised when I was very little that I could have one when I went off to Hogwarts.

I exited the emporium a short while later carrying a small cage and a bag of Owl Treats. My new slender, pretty tawny Northern Saw-Whet owl resided within the cage, and Mum suggested names all the way home. By the time we were back in Rowena's Borough, I had decided on Peltie, which was technically an English surname but worked just fine as a name. Dad and Addison were at work- they worked in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes at the Ministry of Magic in London- but Geoffrey was at home since Mum had taken the day off of her journalist work, and he took an immediate liking to young Peltie. I was glad our owls got along so well, even though that day their owners had not.

One week passed, then another, and a third. Two days before the train was scheduled to leave for Hogwarts, Mum was called to Romania on a business trip to do an article about a few wild dragons wreaking havoc in Bucharest, so Dad and I went to King's Cross alone.

 **Short chapter again- busy day today. They'll get longer with time.**

 **I hope everyone in the path of Hurricane Matthew managed to stay safe!**

 **Any reviews left will be greatly appreciated!**

 **~atrfla**


	3. Chapter 3: The Hogwarts Express

**Sorry I was late on the updating, folks. I won't be next week. I had a 24-hour competition for my sport on Saturday and absolutely no time to type this chapter up, let alone post! I hope you enjoy it and accept my apology!**

I burst through the barrier for the first time, feeling both exhilarated and nervous. I'd always had at least one of my parents either with me or in the vicinity of wherever I went. But at Hogwarts, they wouldn't be there. At least I'd have Millie, and Helen, and-

"Aly!"

I recognized the voice and turned around instantly. It was my mum's twin's eldest daughter, Brooklyn Vawdrey. Following her as she raced toward Dad and me was her family- father Karan Vawdrey, mother Cassiopeia (or "Cassie") Vawdrey, and little sister Libby, who would be starting at Hogwarts in two years.

Brooklyn reached me and spun me around in a hug, her grin reaching all the way across her narrow olive face. "We're finally starting at Hogwarts!"

"I know!" I squealed, hugging her back. Brooklyn and I, despite being the daughters of twins, looked nothing alike. She had long, wavy dark hair and dark eyes like her mother, as well as her father's darker tanned skin; I'd inherited my father's ever-curly light brown hair and jade green eyes. The only thing we shared was freckles.

"Where's Heaven?" Brooklyn asked.

" _Helen_ ," I corrected. I'd often told her about the cousin from the other side of my family- Helen was the daughter of my father's younger sister, Breya Salinger-MacDougal- but they'd never actually met. "She's off with Millie somewhere- you know, my friend from down the street."

Brooklyn shrugged. "Oh, well. Let's get a compartment! Aren't you excited?"

" _Very_ ," I stressed. Then I turned to my dad. "Give my love to Mum?"

"Of course," he agreed, gathering me up in a hug. "Don't forget to write every few weeks, even if it's just a little note."

"I won't!" I promised. Then I kissed his cheek, gathered my things, and let Brooklyn say goodbye to her family. Then the two of us ran off into the crowd, lugging our trunks and cages.

The only compartment even remotely close to empty was at the very end of the train, only one compartment over from the last one. An Asian girl with very long, very straight, very shiny black hair was waving furiously out the window to someone on the platform. With chubby, rosy cheeks and a very round face, she looked to be an incoming first-year, just like myself and Brooklyn.

"Can we sit here?" Brooklyn asked bluntly.

The girl looked up and beamed. "Of course!" She immediately began clearing her things from the seats. "Sit down, sit down. What are your names?" Her bright smile practically shone out of warm brown eyes.

"I'm Alyssa Salinger," I introduced myself as I took the seat across from her next to the window.

Brooklyn sat down beside me after stowing her trunk and cage above us. "Everyone calls her Aly," she interjected.

"And this is my cousin, Brooklyn."

"Vawdrey," Brooklyn added. "Brooklyn Vawdrey."

"Nice to meet you!" the girl said cheerfully, sticking out her hand for us to shake. We both dutifully did so. "I'm Rossalene Yili Chung. A lot of people call me Ross, because Rossalene's a bit of a mouthful, isn't it?"

We nodded agreement.

Brooklyn, always to the point, leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees and her chin in her palms. "So which House do you think you'll be in?" she asked, rather bluntly.

"I don't know," Rossalene replied thoughtfully. "I've given quite a lot of thought to this, but Houses seem to be genetic, don't they? That means I'll probably be in either Hufflepuff or Gryffindor."

"Both of my parents were in Ravenclaw," I explained. "So, naturally, I'm hoping for that."

"Both of _my_ parents were in Slytherin," Brooklyn announced loyally. "I like the idea of being ambitious and cunning. Are both of your parents magic, Ross?"

Rossalene nodded. "Mum's a Muggle-born, but Da is a half-blood. They always tell me not to judge people by their blood because you can't _help_ bein' born that way."

"Our mums are pureblood," Brooklyn said. "They're twins. And Father's a pureblood, too."

" _My_ dad comes from an old line of blood traitors," I said proudly. "I think it's rather neat. Ooh, Rossalene, do you play Quidditch?"

"No," she answered with a shrug, as if she knew that question was coming. "Mum doesn't like it. Da does, so I know the basic rules, but not much else."

"My father _adores_ Quidditch, and so do I," I gushed. "I want to try out for Beater next year."

"And I, Chaser!" Brooklyn declared, striking a heroic pose.

Rossalene was right- she had a _very_ basic grasp on the game. Brooklyn and I explained it to her, so animatedly that we didn't even notice the train start to move. By the time Ross knew the game as well as we did, we were well out in the English countryside.

"So you root for _who_ in the Quidditch World Cup?" Rossalene was asking when a very loud and extremely annoyed hoot came from above us. It was Maycott, as Brooklyn introduced him. He was a huge black barn owl with dark, distrusting eyes, and he was _not_ pleased at being shut up in a cage for so long.

"Sorry, Maycott," Brooklyn apologized, standing and letting him free. It didn't seem fair for Maycott to be liberated and Peltie cooped up, so I let her out as well.

Rossalene gasped. "Oh, you two have _owls?_ Lucky ducks! My da's allergic, you see- we have to make do with the Broomstick Mailing Service, and I've never had a pet. Mum said I could get a toad-" she wrinkled her nose- "but really, who _wants_ a toad?"

I nodded agreement; Brooklyn shrugged. "They can be sort of cute."

Peltie flapped down to perch on my knee, and I found an Owl Treat in my pocket for Rossalene to give to her.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" asked a kindly-looking, plump ancient witch, opening the compartment door and peering down at us.

I glanced at her trolley, which was piled high with sweets- it was obvious that we were one of her first stops on her long trek up to the front of the train- and dug out my money pouch. "Do you have any Cauldron Cakes?"

She nodded, and I bought three. Brooklyn bought three Chocolate Frogs and treated everyone to iced pumpkin juice, and Rossalene purchased a jumbo carton of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans ( _Now with Pork, Seaweed, Grilled Corn, and more flavors!_ ) for us to share. We passed out portions and I ripped open my Cauldron Cake. Cauldron Cakes were easily my favorite wizarding sweets- so chocolatey and sugary sweet- although the American candies my great-uncle would bring me at Christmas were close seconds. Sinking my teeth into one side of the moist cake, I moaned. "Mmmmm." Qizilbash Quality Confectionary really knew their stuff.

"You are _such_ a drama queen," Brooklyn groaned.

"And you're not?" I bantered back, opening my Chocolate Frog just to see which card I'd gotten. Paracelsus. _Not again_ \- I already had two of him. But Brooklyn had Circe, whom I didn't have, so she traded me for Paracelsus and I sat back, pleased.

It seemed only minutes before the trolley witch returned to inform us that we were nearly to Hogwarts and should consider putting on our robes, but it was dark by the time we stepped off the train. Hagrid, the half-giant gatekeeper in my parents' time, had retired a few years before- so I wasn't surprised to see a plump woman with grey-brown hair and a witch's hat askew atop her head, swinging a lantern by one hand and calling, "First-years! First-years over here!"

I made my way over, flanked by Brooklyn and Rossalene. The latter spotted someone she knew- probably a friend from her neighborhood or something- and hurried away, leaving me to follow Brooklyn to the edge of a lake that was glassy and still and pitch-black. Along the shore bobbed a small fleet of little boats.

"Four to a boat," the witch said pleasantly. Someone asked her for her name, and she tittered a little. "Dear me, it completely slipped my mind to introduce myself. I am Professor Jamesina Maduthy, the Care of Magical Creatures professor as well as the gatekeeper here at Hogwarts."

While everyone waved and said hello to Professor Maduthy, Ross reappeared, tugging behind her a small girl with thin, sandy hair. "Everyone, this is Polly Lider," she announced, following me into my boat and dragging Polly with her. "She lives on my street and is really nice!"

Brooklyn got in last. "Hi," she said to Polly, who smiled a little. "I'm Brooklyn. And that oddball there is Alyssa, but everyone calls her Aly."

"Nice to meet you, Polly," I called affably from the front of the boat, pushing off with Rossalene's help.

All of the boats glided smoothly across the dark lake, leaving tiny ripples moving across the surface, somewhat distorting the reflections of the stars that twinkled above. At one point, Professor Maduthy instructed us to duck, and we pushed through an overhanging curtain of ivy and entered an overgrown tunnel made out of rock. Finally, we let out into some type of underground harbor and clambered out of our boats. A couple of crafts had nearly overturned, but the people in them had barely gotten splashed- unlike my father, who had told me time and again about how he had fallen into the icy waters during _his_ cross-lake trip and a big, slimy tentacle had fished him out and plopped him into his boat again.

The shore was made of slippery pebbles, and after taking my first step I fell hard on my backside. Brooklyn- who was, as always, as graceful as a swan- helped me to my feet, and I watched where I was stepping as we climbed up some type of rocky passageway. Only when Brooklyn halted did I stop and glance up- right at the huge, arched doors of Hogwarts, with glowing, brightly lit towers spiraling into the sky above it.

"Wow," I whispered.

Professor Maduthy knocked thrice upon the doors, which opened almost immediately. Standing there was a tall man in dark robes with mussed black hair and twinkling light blue eyes. He smiled kindly at us.

"The first-years, Damien," our guide stated.

"Thank you, Jamesina," the wizard acknowledged, dipping his head and allowing us to filter in through the doors. "Feel free to go on to the feast; I'll take them from here."

The man introduced himself as Professor Damien Kayash, but told us (with a wink) as we winded through the twisting halls of Hogwarts that we were free to call him Professor Damien. He was the Astronomy teacher, Deputy Headmaster, and Head of Slytherin House- Brooklyn perked up at that- and he seemed very kind, laughing and joking, drying off some of the wetter students and even helping calm down a pair of brown-haired female twins who looked very nervous.

"Wait here," he ordered us as we stopped outside a huge pair of doors. He slipped inside, leaving us alone in the corridor. Brooklyn smoothly adjusted her cloak, which had somehow shifted so that the clasp was hooked on her shoulder, while I nervously patted down my unruly hair. Around us, I could see my soon-to-be-classmates also tidying up their appearances, shining shoes, brushing dust off robes, and adjusting headbands.

So we waited, almost completely silent except for the occasional whisper or snuffle, until a few moments later the Astronomy professor reappeared and beckoned us in. We paraded between a table bedecked in green ( _Slytherin_ , I thought) and one with young witches and wizards dressed in black with blue accents (my heart jumped- _Ravenclaw!_ ). A sandy-haired boy with kind hazel eyes who was wearing a badge that marked him as Quidditch Captain smiled at us, and I smiled back. I'd heard that older students were sometimes not the nicest from Kitty, but he seemed all right. Plus, I'd always dreamed of playing Beater on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.

"You will now be Sorted into your Houses," Professor Damien announced, pulling a stool, a ragged old hat ( _The Sorting Hat!_ ) and a scroll from seemingly nowhere. "The four Houses are Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff." He gestured to each table, and the red, green, blue, and yellow tables (respectively) all cheered in turn. "You will sleep in your House dormitory, attend classes, and be able to win or lose points for your House by respectively doing satisfactory or unsatisfactory activities. The House with the most points at the end of the year wins the House Cup, which is a most glorious honor." He pointed at the table on our far right behind us, which was covered in yellow. "Hufflepuff, led by Professor Gedding, are our reigning champions."

The green, blue, and red tables clapped politely while the Hufflepuffs cheered uproariously.

"And now," Professor Damien finished, "the Sorting Hat." He placed the Hat on the stool, which he placed on the dais, then stepped back and flourished at the ragged old hat. "Let the Sorting begin."

 **Was it worth the few extra days? I hope so! Remember to review, please! Thank you all for being so patient!**

 **xoxo, ~atrfla**


	4. Chapter 4: Aly's Sorting

**Again, this chapter's being posted a little late. Blame competition season, not me! I can, however, promise you that my next Saturday is free, so I'll be able to post for sure then, even if it's a little late at night. Anyway, let's continue on in _First Year_ with one of the most important events of a young witch or wizard's life: the Sorting!**

 _"You've crossed the darkened lake_

 _Under the absent sun;_

 _Congratulations, first-years,_

 _Your time at Hogwarts has just begun._

 _You'll attend classes, little ones,_

 _Practice spells on a mouse;_

 _You'll eat and sleep and study but_

 _First you must be put in a House._

 _There are four of them, these Houses old,_

 _And it's my job, you see,_

 _To choose which one is best for you_

 _And start you on your destiny._

 _There's Gryffindor, so bold and brave;_

 _And Hufflepuff, hard-working and kind-_

 _There's Slytherin, cunning and sly;_

 _Then Ravenclaw, who use their minds._

 _In Gryffindor you'll find courage,_

 _Be not timid like a midge!_

 _If Hufflepuff you aspire to be,_

 _You'll live your life so loyally._

 _Those Ravenclaws are creative, oh,_

 _And everything they strive to know._

 _And Slytherins are cunning folk,_

 _But be careful, they are easy to provoke._

 _Whichever House you end up in,_

 _I know you'll do your best to win_

 _The House cup, for your Housemates_

 _Because, students, it's your fate._

 _Now, careful! as you tread the halls_

 _Of Britain's oldest school._

 _Enjoy yourself and learn some stuff_

 _So you won't leave a fool!"_

The Great Hall burst into applause as the Hat smiled its ragged rip of a smile. It wasn't an elegant song, but a jaunty and happy one, and I liked it. It almost, _almost_ , made me less nervous.

Professor Damien began to unroll the scroll he still held. "When I call your name," he instructed us, "come climb the steps and sit upon the stool. When the Hat decides your House, go find an empty seat at your new House's table. We have made sure to leave some spots empty for you." He grinned. "First up: Beaurepaire, Katy!"

Katy- a pretty blonde- climbed the stairs and sat upon the stool and had the hat placed upon her head-

"SLYTHERIN!"

Katy nearly skipped off to the cheering green table that was second from the left, and "Bird, Maria" was called.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Braithnoch, Lorie!"

Lorie Braithnoch stepped shyly up onto the dais, tucking her long, wavy white-blond hair behind her ears.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Chung, Rossalene!"

Ross bounded up the stairs and hopped onto the stool, comfortably settling herself onto the seat and eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Sorting Hat. It hadn't even fully landed on her head when the rip of a mouth opened and screamed with a vigor, _"HUFFLEPUFF!_ "

Ross beamed at me, then Brooklyn, and finally Polly before scooting off the stool and going to sit next to Maria Bird.

 _Dickens, Steven_ became the third Hufflepuff and that House's first male. _Docherty_ , _Noah_ followed him. Everyone cheered for _Fitzgerald, Oscar_ because he was the first Ravenclaw.

"Fitz-Lewis, Pedro?"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Shawnee Haven, who was called next, was a short black girl with a head of short dark curls. I recognized her instantly as the customer before me from Ollivander's three short weeks before. She became the first female Ravenclaw, and I smiled. Perhaps I'd get to know her if I, too, was sorted into the eagle house. Polly too followed her- what a stroke of luck! I'd have another friend in Ravenclaw!

"Liripine, Ivan" was the first boy to join the Slytherin table, but ruddy-faced "Lupin, Eli"- no doubt the son of Harry Potter's godson Teddy Lupin- quickly followed him. Helen made it into Ravenclaw, and I clapped extra hard for my first cousin. Right after her came a pair of siblings- one boy, one girl. I wasn't sure if they were twins or not. The boy (his name was Conor, Conor Mathieson) was actually sort of handsome, and when he was sorted into Gryffindor, he smiled an infectious half-grin. I found myself smiling, too.

His sister shared his petite nose, skinny frame, and freckles, but she was blonde instead of having the same sandy brown hair as Conor. She was smaller, too, and sort of glared at all of us; her name was Jamie, and she was sorted into Hufflepuff.

Despite their last name only starting with _M_ , the final _R_ came way too quickly after the siblings- there were only six people between Jamie Mathieson and Alejandra Rice, who loudly corrected Professor Damien on her name ("It's _Leja_ , not _Alejandra_ \- Merlin's pants, don't use my _full_ name!"). She strode away to the Slytherin table, and I gulped, hoping there was another student whose surname started with _R_ …

"Salinger, Alyssa!"

I took in a deep breath and ascended the stairs. The toe of my left shoe caught on the edge of the top step, and- _oh no, oh no!_ \- I went sprawling. Snickers spread through the tables behind me and the group of my peers as well, but they almost instantly stopped. I looked up, blushing furiously. Minerva McGonagall, the legendary Headmistress herself, the lady with the iron glare, the Headmistress who had come out of retirement ten years before because she "missed Hogwarts" even though she was over a hundred years old- she had stood.

"I will _not_ ," she said sharply, "have students making fun of other students at Hogwarts. You should have all known this already. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes," everyone mumbled sheepishly, and I even heard a few people mutter "ma'am". Even some of the teachers looked ashamed. _That's_ how commanding Hogwarts Headmistress Minerva G. McGonagall could be.

Fortified, I took a few careful steps forward and perched lightly on the stool. All of a sudden there was a weight upon my head- was the Sorting Hat full of bricks?- and a little voice murmured in my head, _Oh, there's no doubt with you._

"RAAAAVENCLAWWW!"

I leapt up, a big smile on my face, and Professor Damien lifted the Sorting Hat and its considerable weight from my head. I cautiously hopped down each step and ran to sit by Polly, Helen, Shawnee and a petite girl named Lanie Kelling with perfectly straight short brown hair.

Millie joined us soon after I did- no surprise there- and two Hufflepuffs and a Slytherin were Sorted before-

"Vawdrey, Brooklyn!"

I crossed my fingers. I'd gotten the House of _my_ dreams- would my cousin, too?

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat roared.

I cheered. We'd both made it into our hoped-for Houses!

But Polly beside me made a small noise, like "Tchah!"

I turned to her. "What is it?"

"How can you be _cheering?_ " she asked. "Slytherins are evil, every last one of them." Polly's tiny frame was racked by a giant shudder. "And to think I thought she was _nice!_ "

The room seemed suddenly colder. I looked down my curved nose at Polly and said, quite icily, "That's my cousin you're talking about. And I'll have you know that we both come from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, a predominantly Slytherin line of heritage."

Polly looked away.

"Webb, Melissa!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Winters, Lyndsay!"

A tall, broad-shouldered girl with coppery brown hair held back by a wide black headband walked forward and sat.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The next two were Gryffindors, too- Thomas Wood and Samira Wright. Finally, "Zobrist, Alexandra!" joined the Hufflepuff table, the Hat and stool and scroll were whisked away, and Headmistress McGonagall stood up once more.

"Good evening," she greeted us. "The Hogwarts house-elves have prepared a great feast, so I beg you, do not waste any food."

Laughter followed her words, and the grey-haired witch sat down amongst thunderous applause. Food appeared instantly on the tables- large platters of soufflés and tarts, plates of steak, bowls heaped with rice and sauces, and trenchers piled high with shepherd's pies and bangers and mash. There were even steamed vegetables and peppermint humbugs, although why the Muggle candy I did not know. I plopped a bit of everything vegetarian (excepting the peppermint humbugs- I'd only tried them once, since they were a Muggle delight, and they were so overwhelmingly minty that I had to leave them alone) on my dish and went at it.

I was halfway through my second helping of cheese-and-mushroom tart when all of the savory foods disappeared and were replaced with desserts. I instantly abandoned my tart, flavorful and steaming hot though it was, and attacked a chocolate cake that was conveniently located right in front of me. Lanie and Shawnee were similarly scarfing down a treacle tart, and we exchanged looks of pure joy.

The cake vanished all too quickly and I leaned back, the understanding that I had eaten far too much settling over me. I sighed deeply and lightly patted my stomach. But how it had been _delicious!_

Headmistress McGonagall stood up again and began to go over the rules. It was a trying time for me, due to the fact that my stomach was full and it was getting to be rather late. My eyelids were just beginning to flutter closed when, with a small smile, she announced, "But I see a few first-years dozing off, so I shall end this yearly declaration here. Go! and sweet dreams."

Then she was gone in a flutter of emerald robes.

I stood up, awakening just enough to be aware of my surroundings, along with my fellow Ravenclaw-first years. For a moment we just huddled in a cluster, wondering what to do and where to go. Then the boy who'd smiled at me earlier, the Quidditch Captain with sandy-colored curls, pushed his way through the crowd and beckoned for us to follow him. As he led the eleven of us through the twisting corridors and up the rapidly moving stairs, he introduced himself as seventh-year and Head Boy Terry Selwyn. He put the five boys- Oscar Fitzgerald, William Greene, Eric Montgomery, and two more boys whose names I couldn't quite remember- at ease, and I liked him a lot too. Head Girl and Quidditch Captain was _definitely_ what I aspired to be in six years.

We all explained our names, too- I learned that the other two boys, both with dark hair and caramel-colored skin, were named Art July and Kevin Grimm, and that William preferred to go by Will- and then we were climbing a tight spiral staircase clogged with other Ravenclaws, and Terry was reaching for something attached to a door at the landing at the top. It was a knocker shaped like an eagle, and I perked up. I couldn't count the number of times my father had told me stories of being locked out of the common room by what I was guessing was this same knocker.

Terry knocked.

From somewhere inside the door, or maybe the knocker, a musical and beautiful voice asked, "What is a Patronus made of?"

Terry didn't even look perplexed for a moment. He simply answered, "Pure happiness."

"Indeed," the door agreed, and it swung open. Terry held the door for all eleven of us as well as a gaggle of third-years behind us before stepping in himself and finding us all stuck in the doorway, mouths hanging open.

No matter how many stories my parents had told me, they had not been able to do the Ravenclaw common room justice.

It was a wide, circular, airy room with white walls and midnight blue carpet, windows draped in bronze and blue silks arching high over our heads, and a dark blue domed ceiling that was speckled with painted stars that still twinkled in the low candlelight. Plush couches and crystal tables were scattered throughout the room, with a fire pit in the center of a few perfectly arranged armchairs. Alcoves full of bookshelves were placed strategically around the room, giving it a cozy, library-like feel. Flanking each alcove stood a pair of tall pedestals topped with what I was sure were majestic bronze eagles. I squinted in the semi-darkness and thought I could make out window seats at each of the windows- perfect little reading nooks. What wasn't blue or bronze in the room was white marble, including the carved alcove walls and the lovely statue of a woman wearing a delicate tiara in the center of the room.

"Rowena Ravenclaw," Terry informed us as he herded us out of the way of a group of fourth-years and past the human-sized marble lady. "Our founder. And the crown is her diadem- the very one that Harry Potter had to destroy to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named some forty-odd years ago."

We oohed and aahed as he ushered us to the alcove behind the statue. There were two doors there, both made of "Boys, follow me; girls, go through the door to the right and climb up the stairs. The first door you see when you step onto the landing is your dorm for this year. Don't even turn around or step foot down the hallway, because your dormitory will be _right_ there."

"Okay!" Helen and I chorused, waving good-bye and leading our group of four others through the dark wooden door made of the same material as the entrance to the commons. Portraits- most likely those of famous Ravenclaw female graduates who had lived in these very dorms once- on the wall to our left chimed greetings as we turned to the right and trudged up the frighteningly steep stairs, holding on for dear life to the handrail to our right.

"Welcome to Ravenclaw Tower, dears!"

"Careful with the sixth stair from the top, it squeaks."

"Oh, we can't wait to get to know you! What are your names?"

"The other portraits talk too much. I'm Perpetua Fancourt, and if you ever need any help with your Astronomy homework, you can come straight to me!"

Perpetua Fancourt's portrait's introduction suddenly made all the other portraits want to shout their names at us too, louder and louder until we finally reached the landing (hopping over the squeaky sixth stair from the top, of course) and entered the door that was directly in front of us. It was marked _First-Years._

Inside, we found an elongated room with cream-colored walls again draped in blue and bronze silks, high starry ceilings like that of the common room, and six four-poster beds all covered in silk bedspreads the color of the sky. I quickly found the bed that had my luggage piled on top of the soft eiderdown- the middle bed on the left side- and glanced it over. It was flanked by high arched windows that were all cracked open just a bit, letting a cool night breeze wash into the room and flutter the navy curtains. On the right side of my bed stood a small wooden table set with two drawers, and on the left shelves were hammered into the walls in place of silks. My bed itself was adorned with blue bedcurtains embroidered with bronze that were currently tied back along the headboard. I could tell that they would fall around the bed, creating a nice little private sleeping area, when untied.

I examined my luggage and decided, although I was getting sleepy again, that it was high time to unpack. Obviously the drawers of the small table to my right had been the subjects of Undetectable Extension Charms, as I was able to fit all of my robes, uniforms, undergarments and extra clothing into them. My money pouch, too. The rest of the things I had brought from home were either school supplies, books or trinkets, all of which went onto the shelves. After placing things like my Gobstones set, a ratty stuffed toy hippogriff, my homework planner, and my brass scales onto the bottom two shelves, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I could fit all eight of my schoolbooks as well as my nine beloved favorite books onto the top shelf. I organized them all alphabetically by title- first _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch, then _A History of House-Elves: Version VI (Revised 2006)_ by Osmond Eveque (a favorite of mine from my younger years), then _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot… all the way to _You & Your Owl _by Mongwau-Manu Molins.

By the time I was fully unpacked, all of my new friends had also found their assigned spaces and had lined the walls with their possessions. Millie had chosen the bed across from me, and Helen the one on her right. Lanie's was on _my_ right, with Shawnee's across from hers, which left the bed on my left for Polly.

Millie and Helen let their twin tabby kittens- Mary, the larger, was Millie's, while Carrie, the older, was Helen's- out of their joint cage. Back in Rowena's Borough, I'd discovered when they had journeyed to Diagon Alley that Carrie wasn't my biggest fan, but Mary adored me. I'd always wanted a cat, but I'd wanted an owl more. As it was, Mary curled up with Millie and Carrie with Helen as we changed into our pajamas, slipped beneath our bedsheets, and fell into exhausted sleeps.

 **Ah, but we all knew she'd be a Ravenclaw, even if you haven't read the prequels/sequels to this story, _Fifth Year_ and _Fourth Year_! Did you like Aly's Sorting? Please leave me a review below! (Remember, people, ideas and _positive_ criticism, please!)**

 **With love,**

 **~atrfla**


	5. Chapter 5: A Very Confusing First Day

**I'm bracing myself for the lateness comments that I'm bound to get and that I deserve. Completely slipped my mind to post last Saturday, so now I'm a week behind. I'll figure out a way to make it up to you guys!**

Slowly, I became awake. It was eerily silent in my bedroom. I couldn't even hear Mum making breakfast or Dad singing as he prepared to leave for work. So strange this was that it forced my eyes open even though I wanted desperately to go back to sleep. It was summer, after all…

Instead of the light blue wall of my room, my green gaze landed upon dark blue drapes.

 _No. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no no nononono-_

It was my first day of school at Hogwarts, and I had overslept.

I dressed in only two minutes and rushed to the door, slinging my satchel full of schoolbooks over my shoulder as I went. My frizzy hair, tangled and knotted from sleeping with the covers over my head (a habit I'd picked up when I was little and had never exactly let go of), hung into my eyes, which is why I didn't see the piece of parchment that had been slid under the door and nearly slipped on it. Instead, I shook my curls from my eyes and picked it up off the floor, nails scrabbling against carpet for a moment.

It was a class schedule- for "Alyssa H. Salinger"- _my_ schedule. According to the scroll, my first class- which was first-year Charms- started in only five minutes!

I yelped and sprinted out the door, down the stairs, and out of the common room. I passed a few sixth-years on my way down the tight spiral staircase, pressing flat against the wall to squeeze by the pack comfortably, and they looked at me with bewildered expressions.

 _First-year Charms: Classroom 99._ Where was Classroom 99? I ran around, trying to find it, up sets of stairs and down corridors and even through the nearly-empty Great Hall once with no time to grab any breakfast before it vanished from the tables. I soon found myself in the seventh-floor corridor, and I must've hurried up and down it three or four times, thinking furiously to myself. _Where is Classroom 99? Oh, my hair must be a fright! I wish I had a mirror! I can't go into class looking like this- if I could ever_ find _my class, that is!_

On my fifth (or was it seventh?) time down that same hall- really, _where_ was the exit door?- I stopped short halfway. There was a door on one wall, a door that hadn't been there before. It was conveniently located right across from an old, worn tapestry of bright colors depicting a crazy-looking wizard with fluffy, wild hair trying to teach trolls that were dressed in very ugly- were those tutus?

 _Maybe this is Classroom 99,_ I thought, hope coursing through my veins. I flung open the door…

…only to find a small room with a mirror hanging on one wall on the other side. I stepped through, letting the door shut behind me. The mirror glowed with an almost feral light, like it was screaming through the darkness that would have enveloped the room if not for it. The glowing mirror was oval-shaped and glistening silver, with glass leaves and crystals surrounding the border and shining glittery shapes on the opposite walls. It was beautiful, and shimmering, and it was reflecting my frizzy and messy hair.

I combed my fingers through my curls until they looked even halfway decent. Then I turned on my heel, quickly, and opened the door just a smidgen-

 _Crack!_

I whirled back around and gasped. My heavy bag- laden with schoolbooks and quills and ink and every other thing I could possibly need- had swung out from my hip when I turned and had hit the mirror, the surface of which had cracked clear across! Some type of noxious green slime was beginning to gather in the crack in the glass, bubbling up almost from inside the mirror itself.

 _That's disgusting!_ I chided myself. _I have to fix this._

I fished in the pocket of my new robes for my wand; finding it, I pulled it out and ran one slender pale finger down its smooth, polished light brown surface. I searched in my mind for a memory and remembered when, one day, Geoffrey had knocked a vase off of an end table when I was nine. Mum had simply cast a spell and the vase had fixed itself, poof! What had the incantation been? _Repair_ something… could it have been as simple as _Repair-o_? I decided it must have been, so I pointed the tip of my cedar wand at the crack and said, very carefully: " _Repair-o_."

The glass knit itself back together!- well, it started to. Delighted though I was at performing my first spell, it would all be completely useless if I couldn't get to class on time! So I fled the room before the mirror could completely fix itself, shutting the door behind me as I went- but when I glanced behind me, it was gone.

And to top it all off, a friendly Hufflepuff fifth-year pointed the way Classroom 99 (it was in the South Tower! Who knew?) and I only arrived three minutes late. Plus, the nice, elderly Professor Brocklehurst- a former Ravenclaw who'd been in the same class as Harry Potter during her time at Hogwarts- understood that I'd gotten lost, so I wasn't punished at all!

After a long and exhausting day of classes, I followed my friends through the hallways. In Charms class, Brooklyn had seemed to get along pretty well with of her fellow Slytherins, Leja Rice- the girl who had corrected Professor Damien on her name at the Sorting Ceremony. She was loud and brash, the exact opposite of my sly and calculating cousin, and I saw them sitting together when I entered the Great Hall with Lanie and Shawnee after a hectic double period of Transfiguration with the Gryffindors in which I only managed to meet one Gryffindor, a quiet girl named Liana Joulon who seemed to hang out with the more popular crowd.

I was just sitting down to dinner when I saw something small and dark dart between a plate of unrecognizable reddish-brown meat and a dish half full of steaming vegetable soufflé. I pointed it out to Lanie and Shawnee, the latter of whom quickly reached behind an empty goblet and pulled out a mouse with black fur, dangling by its black tail. It was wiggling frantically and waving its little paws. _Ew!_

"Do you think it belongs to someone?" Lanie voiced worriedly.

Shawnee frowned and then waved down a passing Professor Maduthy- hat askew as always and tufts of fur scattered across her robes. Apparently, she'd had an eventful first day back, but she took the mouse without complaint and hurried back out of the Great Hall.

I sat down and cut a pie-wedge of the vegetable soufflé for myself. "Don't worry, Lanie- whoever owns that mouse will get it back. Professor Maduthy will make sure of it."

After dinner I was sitting with Millie and Helen on Millie's bed, flipping through some dog-eared copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four_ (which had been left in the commons). Two high-pitched meows sounded in the still air, and two tabby blurs streaked across the room. Mary curled up on Millie's lap and Carried herself on _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four_. Both instantly dropped the things they were carrying in their small pink mouths, and all three of us girls recoiled in surprise and disgust.

Two black mice lay dead before us.

Millie shrieked and scrambled to her feet, throwing both Mary and the mouse to the floor. Helen threw the book to the side and leaped backwards onto the bed, her cat following her. I screamed, too. Mary, from below us, hissed at her owner and jumped up onto my lap instead.

Shawnee came over and crouched on the floor. I scratched Mary, and Millie and Helen ranted about the "overwhelming mice problem" at Hogwarts. Our short, squat friend picked up the dark shape from the floor and plucked up the one that was covering the incantation for the Summoning Charm on the book on Millie's pillow. "What _are_ these? I've seen black mice before, but _look_ \- even its _tail_ is black-" she held up the floor mouse by its small tail and then set it in a box she'd nabbed from her bedside table- "and just take a peek at these eyes." She thrust the remaining mouse towards me, and I shrieked and scrabbled backwards across Millie's bed to get away from it, effectively messing up her carefully made bedspread and also throwing Mary off of a lap for the second time in as many minutes. The kitten hissed at me in distaste and stalked off to find a more comfortable, stable position.

"Let me see," Lanie offered, coming over from where she was flopped on her bed reading a book, most likely a textbook. She peered at the mouse from just the right distance away; hiding behind her, I also peeked over her shoulder to look. Although the creature was most certainly dead, its eyes were a bright and lively yellow, and seemed to almost follow me.

I shuddered. "It looks like a mascot for Hufflepuff."

"Indeed," Shawnee confirmed, dropping the second mouse in the box and closing it up tightly. I sincerely hoped she would dispose of it, but no, she just set the small patterned container on her end table. _Figures._ "Freaky, right?"

"I'll say," Lanie agreed, crossing the room back to her bed and reopening our History of Magic textbook to continue reading.

 _Almost as freaky as the mirror from this morning,_ I mused as I hopped up off of Millie's bed and went over to my own, rummaging around in my dresser for nothing in particular. _I wonder if I should tell my roommates? Maybe they'd have some answers. Especially about that gross green gunk._

"I'm tired," Polly said with a yawn, appearing out of seemingly nowhere near the far window. "Can we turn off the lights?"

"Let me change first," Shawnee offered, drawing the bedcurtains around her space to hide her from view. The rest chorused their agreements and withdrew into their respective areas, leaving me with no choice but to not tell them about the mysterious mirror that had appeared just when I had needed it most.

 **Probably not worth the two-week wait, but still, was it good? Leave positive criticism and comments in the box below!**

 **~atrfla**


	6. Chapter 6: The Gryffindor Shrine

I went to bed that night with a determination to wake up early; instead, I woke up the next morning with just enough time to get ready and grab a quick breakfast before class. I got lost heading down to the Great Hall, but managed to find it with a little time left, so I just nabbed a piece of toast covered in marmalade from the edge of the Ravenclaw table and set out to find the Herbology greenhouses.

 _Must be outside_ , I thought turning a corner. _Nice House-mates I have, leaving me-_

"Oof!" I fell to the floor, having run at full speed into someone. They'd fallen, too. As I picked myself up off the floor, I caught a glimpse of messy caramel-colored hair and the Gryffindor crest on the boy's robes.

He sprang to his feet and I found myself looking into pretty turquoise eyes. I _knew_ those eyes, knew their brilliant color and that laughing quality that made it seem like he had always just heard a very funny joke, or maybe even told one…

"Hey, you're that kid who ran into me in Diagon Alley!" I exclaimed with a cry of recognition.

He grinned- not sheepishly, like I would've expected, but jokingly. Maybe even a little bit arrogantly. "Guess we have a habit of bumping into each other, huh?"

"You need to start watching where you're going," I scolded him.

He didn't seem to mind that he was being lectured by a girl who was either his age or younger (I still had no idea what year he was in). He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe it's you. After all, you _are_ a spaz- I saw you trip at the Sorting."

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. " _Riiight_." _I don't recognize him from any of my classes. I had Transfiguration with the Gryffindors yesterday, and I_ definitely _don't remember him from anywhere except Diagon Alley._ "Well, at least I won't have to worry about you _bumping into me_ during my classes. Good day." I turned to go.

"We have Transfiguration together!" he yelled after me.

I stopped short. Was _he in my Transfiguration class?_ Slowly, I turned back to face him.

He grinned. "Your name's Elysia, right? See ya, Elysia." Then he spun around and ran in the opposite direction, so obviously set on having the last word.

 _Elysia?!_ I sputtered for a moment and then yelled, "It's Alyssa!" But he was gone.

I wasn't late to Herbology after all, and I recognized the professor immediately. Elderly and greying (but really 60 or so), Neville Longbottom was just as kind as my parents had described, and he wasn't afraid to wrestle any of the plants in the greenhouse we were in (Greenhouse One). After class, as I headed off to find Classroom 3C for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Longbottom stopped me. "Alyssa," he said, smiling.

"Aly," I corrected.

"Aly," he repeated for my benefit. "Well- I happened to notice that your last name is Salinger."

I nodded, not saying anything.

"Would your father be Benjamin Salinger?" he asked cheerfully.

Again, I nodded. "That's Dad."

Professor Longbottom sighed wistfully. "A great student, your father was, and an excellent herbologist too. I was sincerely disappointed when he went into the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, when he easily could have taken over for me when I want to retire. That means your mother is one of the Black twins, yes? Which one did he marry again?"

"Hesper."

He sighed again. "Nice girl. Not the best Herbologist, but an excellent writer. I joked at their wedding that with her talent, _she_ was the one who could have been a descendant of the great Muggle-born author J.D. Salinger. Say, does this mean that Walt and Breya's daughter and Karan and Cassiopeia's oldest are here as well?"

I told him yes just in time to snatch Helen as she walked by after Millie. "Aunt Cassie's daughter Brooklyn is in Slytherin, but this is Helen, my dad's sister's daughter."

Professor Longbottom nodded to Helen. "I taught both your mother Breya and her brother. They were both excellent herbologists. It's a pleasure to meet you. Say, you two had best be off, but will you tell them I say hello when you see them again?"

We promised to tell them hello for him in our next letters home. We made it to Defense Against the Dark Arts with a few minutes to spare, and chose seats near the front of Classroom 3C.

Our teacher, Professor Gedding, was short and a bit pudgy, with a big potbelly, an overlarge trench coat, and skin the color of a Chocolate Frog. He seemed nice- until he made us gather our things and stand near the front of the room at the beginning of class. With a wave of his wand, the desks rearranged themselves into two long lines facing each other.

"Ravenclaw boys and Gryffindor girls on the left," he ordered, gesturing to the left line, "and Ravenclaw girls and Gryffindor boys on the right. Alternate by gender, please."

On the Ravenclaw-boy/Gryffindor-girl side, there were only 5 girls to 9 boys, so on the ends there were multiple Gryffindor girls instead of just one. On our side, however, there were six Ravenclaw girls and seven Gryffindor boys, so it worked perfectly. Even better, Conor Mathieson chose _of his own free will_ to sit to my left. My smile was still lingering on my face when a horribly familiar voice said from far too close, "Hey, Elysia."

 _No, no, no._

I turned to find- who else?- the boy from Diagon Alley and that morning, sliding into the seat on my right.

"I guess I was right after all," he continued, more than a bit smugly. "We _do_ have classes together."

 _Ugh!_ I started to get up, but Professor Gedding pointed at me with his wand. "No, no. Sit back down, Miss-?"

"Salinger," I finished for him.

"Did I hear right?" an incredulous male voice asked me. "Is your name Elysia Salinger?"

I spun to my left. Conor Mathieson was looking at me with that catchy half-grin on his face. Suddenly, the room seemed very hot. I felt my palms begin to moisten. Clearing my throat, I clarified, "It's Alyssa, actually."

"Oh yeah!" He nodded. "You're the one who tripped at the Sorting. I remember."

My cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"But the Salinger part," he pressed. "Are you descended from J.D. Salinger? The author who-"

"Posed as a Muggle for most of his life? Yes, I am," I interrupted. "He's my great-grandfather."

Conor's eyes widened. "My sister Jamie's a _huge_ fan of _The Ocean Full of Bowling Balls_ and _The Catcher in the Rye_. I _have_ to tell her about this!"

I smiled. "That's cool." Then something he said began to itch at me, and I furrowed my brows. "Wait, Is Jamie not your twin? I thought you were twins. You certainly look alike."

He rolled his eyes. "No, she's ten months older than me. As she _loves_ to remind me." He stuck out his hand, and I noticed that the thumb on his right hand had a nail bitten to the quick. "I'm Conor, by the way, although you probably already know that- Conor Mathieson."

I wiped my sweating palm on my uniform skirt and shook the offered hand. "Alyssa Salinger, but everyone calls me Aly."

"Nice to meet you, Aly. Wait, if your name's Alyssa, then why was Nick calling you Elysia? There's an Elysa in our year but she's in Gryffindor." He pointed to a dark-skinned girl with model-like features and ringlets of black hair.

I was more concerned with the previous name. "Nick?"

"Yeah. Nick Justice." He pointed past me. "The guy on your other side? I thought you'd met."

I glanced to my right. Nick was watching me, eyes glittering, and he winked when our gazes met. I shuddered, turning back to Conor. "No. We just… er… _ran into each other_ a few times."

Nick snorted behind me, and Conor grinned. At that moment, Professor Gedding rapped his dark wood pointer on the desk and announced that class was about to begin.

By the end of my first DADA period, I had decided that I enjoyed the class. Professor Gedding seemed to mix up his words often, and it was great fun with Conor next to me. He cracked a lot of jokes under his breath and smiled that quirky grin often, and I found myself liking him more and more the more I got to know him. Plus, he was incredibly cute- unlike _Nick_. But when class was over, Conor joined his friends- I heard someone call them Nate and Marshall- and booked it out of the room, probably heading to his next class. Nick hung around a little bit, chatting to a round boy with a genial face whom he called Nathan.

 _A Nathan and a Nate? That_ has _to be confusing in the Gryffindor dorm!_

I packed my things, trying to hurry. Of course, I managed to knock over my entire bag and almost everything spilled from its leather creases. The room was nearly empty, with most of the remaining students- including Nick and Nathan- just trickling out the door

Sighing, I crouched down and started picking up my books. Luckily, my inkbottle had been cushioned by nothing other than my foot, which now throbbed horribly. Trying to balance on one foot while collecting my things from the floor and surrounding desks was simply too much for me, and I fell over onto Nick's abandoned chair.

But helping hands pulled me up. I glanced up to see a girl with long waves of coppery brown hair held back by a glittery vermilion headband. She smiled at me. "Ah get it. Ye're a clumseh one. Et's awlrigh', ah am too!"

Her Scottish brogue was so strong that I could barely understand it. People who weren't from Britain probably would understand her as well as an underqualified witch or wizard understands Gobbledygook. But I could comprehend her words, and I smiled at her as she helped me to gather up my objects. "Thanks. I'm Aly, by the way."

"An' ah'm Lyndsay," she replied. "Lyndsay Winters."

I vaguely remembered her from the Sorting. "Weren't you wearing a black headband yesterday?"

She nodded, pushing back the wide strip of bright red cloth with a proud smile. "Ah have abou' twenty headbands. Ah like tae wear them. Ah like this 'un best, though- because ah'm a new Gryffindor."

I chuckled, she slipped my last scrap of parchment into my bag, and we strode out together. As a Gryffindor, she had Charms next, unlike me. I was scheduled to go to Potions. I grew quite fond of Lyndsay as we walked to the spot where I would have to split off to go to the dungeons, and we talked. I learned that she had an older brother, Vincent, who was also a Gryffindor, and she enjoyed playing Quidditch, although she'd never watched it professionally.

Lyndsay and I became better friends over the next month. I introduced her to Lanie, Shawnee, Millie, Helen, Brooklyn, and Rossalene, and they all got along fabulously (although Millie and Helen seemed to prefer the company of the more giggly Gryffindor girls, like Elysa, the girl Conor had pointed out to me during my first DADA class).

In fact, I made habits of walking with friends to my next class every day. Lyndsay always met me outside Herbology whenever we had Defense Against the Dark Arts afterwards, and I would meet her outside the greenhouses whenever we needed to get to Transfiguration. I used the same system with all of my inter-House friends, and of course Lanie and Shawnee always walked with me, since we had matching schedules.

One day in late September, I had a free period after a double Transfiguration class with the Gryffindors and I decided to go find the mirror I'd all but forgotten about. Maybe I could hang it in our dormitory- it had certainly been beautiful enough, but it had looked unkempt and dusty, so no one would miss it.

I rediscovered the corridor that had contained the door to the mirror's room, but said door wasn't there. Remembering that I had run up and down the corridor, I sprinted up and down the hallway one, two, three times, wondering why the door had disappeared when I'd closed it.

I was about to run past the blank stretch of wall that I remembered the door being part of for the fourth time when I realized that the wall was empty no longer. The door had appeared, as large and dark and magnificent as ever. I threw it open and stepped inside.

The small room with the shining silver mirror wasn't what I found, however. Instead I stared, open-mouthed, at a long room, almost like a corridor in its length and narrowness. Lining the sides of the hallway were pedestals topped with shining trophies and golden statues of lions caught mid-roar and mid-rear. The pedestals themselves were gold as well, but draped in billowing stretches of dark red fabric. The hallway stopped abruptly after a short walk, and I found myself staring at a mirror on the wall.

It wasn't the mirror I'd seen earlier that month.

No, it was a huge rectangle of glass surrounded in curls of gold that looked like claws. Red jewels sparkled surrounding the reflective surface that was tinged gold, and the whole thing glowed faintly scarlet.

I peered at my gold-tinted reflection. All of a sudden, it occurred to me how courageous I looked- like I could take on the world and get through unscathed. I smirked at myself. _Huh._

Then I saw, in the mirror's shimmering surface, a shadow dart behind one of the pedestals. I whirled around, tearing my green eyes from my reflection. "Who's there?"

Slowly, _Nick_ stood up. He grinned, almost regretfully but not quite. "Hey, Lyss."

" _Alyssa_ ," I snapped, all of my wonder and curiosity vanishing the instant I saw him. "Or, if you're going to call me by a nickname, at least call me _Aly_."

"Sorry," he shrugged. His eyes alighted on the mirror behind me, and he scampered into the aisle between pedestals so he could see himself in the glass. He moved up to stand beside me, tapped it and grinned. "Hey, we look cool!"

I glanced behind me at the mirror, then turned to look into its glass. For some reason, the Nick in the mirror didn't look like the Nick I knew and despised. He looked stronger, braver.

I shot a look at the Nick beside me. Did the mirror actually _change_ who we were? No- _I_ didn't feel any different, and Nick in real life was still arrogant, annoying- and _short_. I realized with a start that he was _quite_ small. I'd known earlier that I was taller than him, but by Rowena- I had at _least_ three inches on him. I snorted, feeling like I had won a battle.

"Did you say something?" Nick, asked, pausing in examining his golden reflection.

"Who, me? No," I said, still giggling a little.

Nick struck a pose for the mirror. "Okay. Hey, what _is_ this place? A secret Gryffindor shrine or something?"

"What do you mean? It's not…" I trailed off, staring open-mouthed at the pedestals and trophies around me. The red and gold… the lions… the mirror with claws and jewels… how had I not seen it sooner?

"Speechless?" Nick snarked, grinning at me.

"No," I said haughtily. "It's just that last time I came here it was different. Someone must have decorated it."

 _And I suppose they changed the entire shape of the room, too?_ a little voice whispered in my head.

I pushed it away mentally. "Stay here if you like, but I'm leaving. I'd much rather prefer to attend a shrine to Rowena Ravenclaw." With one last look at the shining Gryffindor mirror and the bolder Aly within it, I strode down the corridor and pushed open the door. Stepping through it, I let it shut with a _bang_ behind me.

When I was halfway down the hall, I dared to glance back.

The door was still there.

I broke into a run, spooked, not stopping at all on my way back to Ravenclaw Tower except for when an empty staircase I was about to climb onto vanished in front of my eyes. If I was lucky, I would have time to relax a little before class, and then I could forget about that strange room.

 **Yay, I posted on time for once! Well- what do you think? Leave your opinions on the room, the mirror, and Aly's blossoming relationships with her classmates below!**

 **~atrfla**


	7. Chapter 7: Twins, Thestrals, and Trauma

**Boy oh boy, once again I am late. I seem to have as much trouble with timeliness as Aly, yeah?**

I didn't tell anyone about the mirror and Gryffindor "shrine", and Nick seemed to have forgotten all about it by the end of October, which was fine by me. In fact, he pretty much left me alone for the entire month, which was nice.

October itself was a very uneventful month. Except for Classroom 99 completely disappearing on the eighth and Professor Brocklehurst being forced to move class that day, my life was pretty uneventful. As usual, there was plenty of gossip anyways. According to Brooklyn, her friend Leja's attempt at the Herbicide potion in Professor Fourier's class had somehow seeped out of the bottom of her cauldron and all over the classroom floor. A fifth-year Hufflepuff girl had almost fallen to her death after starting to climb a moving staircase that had mysteriously vanished the instant before her foot hit the first step. Luckily, her friends had been paying attention, and the girl's life had been saved.

Mostly, the school was just buzzing, excited for Halloween. Apparently Hogwarts Halloweens were legendary. Once I heard of this, I sent letter after letter to my parents, practically _begging_ to hear of their Halloweens here at school. I got a few replies carrying tales of pumpkin carving and decorated halls and feasts, and they only served to excite me more.

October thirty-first I woke up bright and early, then rushed down to the Great Hall as soon as I was decent. My dad's reply had claimed that the staff decorated the Great Hall for Halloween- but no, it was as boring as ever, only decorated with the House colors. Red and gold for Gryffindor. Yellow and black for Hufflepuff. Bronze and blue for Ravenclaw. And, of course, silver and green for Slytherin. I plopped down onto a seat at the Ravenclaw table and helped myself to a serving of eggs.

My first class was Herbology, and once my friends (who had joined me in the Great Hall soon after I'd finished my eggs, equally disappointed about the lack of decorations) and I finished breakfast we walked outdoors, chattering like small, black-clad birds. We pushed open the doors to the outside-

-and abruptly stopped talking.

A large skeletal horse was staring us in the face. It had completely white eyes and a black coat stretched thin over a bony frame, with large, feathery black wings folded on its back. And it was staring us down, looking terrifying and curious all at once.

I gasped. _What is that? Will it eat us? Surely it won't eat us, right?_

The thing lifted its reptilian head with those creepy eyes and stepped smoothly past us- not through the castle doors, thank Rowena, but down a path to our left that led to the greenhouses.

We all let out a collective sigh of relief.

"What was _that_?" whispered Helen.

Millie let out a breath. " _I_ don't know."

"Nor do I," Rossalene, who had seen us walking from the Great Hall and run to catch up to us, breathed. She was still a little out of breath from her post-breakfast sprint.

"I do," Lanie offered. "They're called thestrals. I knew Hogwarts had a herd of them. But they're classified as XXXX in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , and _that_ I just don't understand."

"XXXX?" I asked, confused. "But that would make them highly dangerous."

"They're carnivorous," Lanie agreed. "I've never heard of one acting so calm. Hogwarts's herd must be _highly_ trained."

"I wouldn't expect any less of Professor Maduthy," Millie said to murmurs of agreement as we turned onto the path the thestral had gone down in one large mass.

"What I don't comprehend," Lanie murmured slowly, "is why we were able to _see_ them."

"Why wouldn't we?" That was Shawnee, posing the responsible question, as always.

"The only people who are able to see the thestrals are people who have seen someone die and truly understood it," Lanie explained. "As far as I know I've never seen anyone die."

"Me neither," Helen chimed in, and the rest of us nodded in agreement.

"That _is_ odd," Polly mumbled. She'd been quiet since we'd come face-to-face with the bone horse. "Maybe we ought to ask Professor Maduthy about it. She'll know."

"Hey, maybe it's related to those black mice!" Rossalene exclaimed. "Maybe we aren't supposed to see _them_ either! Maybe they're called thest-mice, or something. You know, there's this girl in my dormitory- her name's Nicole, Nicole Trout- and she has this little black cat that's _completely_ adorable. Its little paws are just-" She waved her hands helplessly in the air and made a sound that was a cross between a groan and a squeal. "Anyway, it often brings them back to our room…"

Rossalene kept talking, but I spotted Millie and Helen exchange glances. I felt for them- every night Mary and Carrie brought back at _least_ one of those mice, each. They left them in a bunch of different places- Millie's bed, the windowsill, in my dresser drawer (somehow), even the loo. It wasn't just Millie and my cousin, though. We _all_ suffered because of those cats. There were always mice everywhere!

We arrived at the greenhouses a few moments later. Two Hufflepuff boys were already there- a tallish boy with long wavy caramel-colored hair and a shorter one with impish features whose curls were a darker brown. They were, respectively, Johnny Gonzalez and Matt Garza. I'd discovered over the last two months why the two had apparently hit it off their first night in the Hufflepuff boys' dormitory- both were bundles of energy who liked to joke around and had even played a prank or two on a student. (I don't know how they did it, but you could still see streaks of brilliant purple in Conor's friend Marshall's thin dark hair.)

I was in the lead as we stepped into the yard, so I waved. "Hi, Johnny. Hey, Matt."

"Did you see a big black skeleton horse pass through here?" Helen demanded, stepping out from behind me. Sure enough, after looking around, I deduced that no thestral waited in the clearing beside the greenhouses.

"Yeah!" Matt exclaimed, catapulting from his perch on top of a stone bench to land on his tiptoes in the dirt in front of us. I marveled at his incredible agility. "That creepy thing! They're _all over_ the grounds. I looked out me window this morning and there were about five o' them strollin' lazy as you please around the gardens."

"Those wings aren't decorative, either," Johnny commented, leaping down from the same bench. He didn't have Matt's acrobatic skills, so he stumbled a bit upon the landing. "One was flying, I swear."

"Maybe they're here for Halloween," Rossalene said brightly.

"But we're not supposed to be able to see them," Lanie reminded us.

Matt asked "What?", confused, and Lanie quickly outlined what she'd explained earlier about the properties of thestrals.

"Maybe the teachers cast a spell over them," suggested Millie, guiding a lost-in-thought Shawnee to the bench Matt and Johnny had been balancing on so she didn't fall over.

"Or over us," Johnny said.

A new voice remarked, "Sounds dangerous."

I turned around to see, standing on the path past Helen and Lanie and Polly and Rossalene, three girls I recognized a little. All were in the black robes and grey uniform of a Hogwarts student, with the Hufflepuff crest over the heart on their robes. Like Rossalene. They'd been in my classes for two months, yet I still struggled with their names.

"Kayla! Ana! Nicole!" Rossalene cried, saving me from having to ask their names. She launched herself over to them and started loudly chattering about the thestrals.

Two of the girls looked exactly alike (except for the left's face was more rounded and she had longer brown hair, while the right's face was oval-shaped and framed by shoulder-length locks). I decided they must be twins.

The last girl caught my attention as she moved past Rossalene and came to stand next to Matt. She tried to rest her elbow on his shoulder, but she actually couldn't reach it due to their considerable height difference. She tossed her hair, a slightly darker shade than Matt's, out of her face as if she had never tried to rest on him at all. "Happy birthday, sucker."

Matt elbowed her in the side. "Thanks, Nicole."

Johnny frowned at her from the other side of his best friend. "No happy birthday for me, Nikki?"

"Don't call me Nikki," Nicole snapped at him. "And I didn't know you two shared a birthday."

"We don't," Matt said as Rossalene's conversation with the other two girls- Kayla and Ana- grew louder and more high-pitched. "He's joking, I think."

Johnny looked at him strangely. "Mate, I never joke about my birthday. There's cake."

"Cake?" the round-faced twin pitched in before rejoining her previous conversation.

As more Hufflepuffs trickled into the clearing- the Hufflepuff class was pretty big- Matt scratched his ear. "How come you never told me you were born on Halloween?"

"How come _you_ never told _me_ you were born on Halloween?" Johnny repeated.

"Stop bickering," Nicole said drily with a flick of her dark hair. "You two are honestly like siblings. It's annoying."

I glanced between the two boys. "Maybe- no, that would be too weird."

"Maybe what?" Matt pestered, leaping over to stand beside me with all the grace of a dancer as the Ravenclaw boys, along with Professor Longbottom, entered the clearing.

"I was going to say maybe you are- you know, brothers or twins or something," I said with a shrug. "But that's really, _really_ improbable."

"I'm adopted," Matt shrugged. "It's not impossible."

Johnny paled. " _I'm_ adopted."

Nicole gasped.

Johnny turned to her almost instantly. "What?"

Nicole had gone ghost white and clapped a hand to her mouth. Through thick fingers with long, unkempt nails, she whispered, "The laugh. That's why your laugh is the same." Turning to me, she explained, "They were joking around in the commons last month and they started laughing. They have the same God-awful, screechy laugh. I thought one of them was just mimicking the other but-"

"That's my normal laugh," Matt said at the same time that Johnny shook his head and said, "That's how I usually laugh."

Nicole and I turned to the boys, wide-eyed.

Just then, Professor Longbottom shouted, "Ladies and gentlemen, Greenhouse One, please."

"Come on," Nicole said to the boys, grabbing Matt's wrist and Johnny's elbow. She actually had to reach up to take that last one. "Let's go talk to Professor Longbottom- he'll know."

She dragged the possible twins off, and I went over to help Millie try to break Shawnee from her trance. By the time we managed to wake her up and get her into the greenhouses, Nicole had once again joined Kayla and Ana, and Matt and Johnny were nowhere to be seen.

Two class periods later, I was on my way to Charms when I heard my name being shouted over the noise of the crowded corridor. I was tall for my age, but not taller than most of the people surrounding me since they had at least a few years on me and some were boys. I couldn't see who was yelling at me, then. Before I could shout back, someone with curly hair like noodles on his head appeared at my side, snatched my wrist, and towed me through the crowd.

It was Matt, as I discovered moments later. He grinned at me as he pulled me into a dip in the wall that was already crowded with first-years. All boys.

"Did you talk to a teacher?" I nagged him. "Did Headmistress McGonagall-"

"We'll know tonight after dinner," he interrupted me, shushing me. "Remember the creepy horse things- what were they called?"

"Thestrals," someone said.

" _Those_ ," Johnny said triumphantly from next to his best friend.

"I remember," I agreed. "What about them?"

"Have you been to the commons since this morning, Aly?" a boy's voice inquired. It was dark in the crevice, since I was blocking most of the light from the corridor by standing in the entrance, but I recognized the voice. Art. Art July.

"Art?" I asked.

"That's me," he said. "Have you?"

"No. Why?"

Someone moved beside me, his face half-shadowed. I squinted at his long nose and oval-shaped face and heavy, hooded eyes, and came to the conclusion that it was my quietest fellow Ravenclaw, Kevin Grimm.

"There's one in the common room," Kevin mumbled softly.

"In the Puff commons too," Johnny exclaimed with excitement.

It took a moment for their words to sink in, but I stiffened when they did. " _What?_ " I screeched. "You do know that a thestral is classified as XXXX in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_? Even if it's trained, it's still _way_ too dangerous to be in the _common room-_ "

"Calm down, Aly," drawled another voice. Its owner moved into the dim light.

Will Greene. He was like me- kind, quick, intelligent. We weren't best friends necessarily, but out of the Ravenclaw boys, I liked him best.

"Professor Maduthy examined the thestrals," Will explained. "She said that a spell's been cast over them to make them even _more_ tame than they already were. Apparently, at worst they're an XX now, probably not even that."

"A _spell_?" I parroted dubiously. "Who could possibly be powerful enough to cast a spell of that magnitude? You must be joking."

"He's not," confirmed a very one-tone voice. I knew that emotionless tone, and I knew that its owner- another Ravenclaw, Eric Montgomery- only believed things if they were right and he had seen them with his own eyes. Therefore, he was someone to trust wholeheartedly. "A third-year was riding the thestral when I stopped in to pick up my books for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had raw meat in his hand and the thestral wasn't even touching it. It has to be powerful magic of some sort."

"Dark magic?" Art asked.

"Who in the school knows Dark magic?" Will scoffed at his best friend.

"That's some amazing spellwork," I breathed. "Do you think it's the Headmistress? I bet the professors aren't baffled at all, they're just playing along with it."

"I could see that," Matt, ever the prankster, chimed in.

"We probably ought to get to Charms," Eric, ever the responsible one, reminded us all, therefore dismissing the prior conversation.

"We have time-" Art began.

Matt cut him off. "I have to get to History of Magic with the Gryffs. I'll see you all later." He gestured to Johnny to follow him. "Ta!" And then they were gone.

"We might as well go," Will told Art.

The five of us- the final Ravenclaw boy, Oscar Fitzgerald, was suspiciously missing- moved into the light of the corridor and hurried down it towards Charms, still debating whether the whole thestral situation was a setup.

After Charms was Defense Against the Dark Arts, and once I got through a class period of Nick's bad jokes and Conor's good ones, I had an hour until dinner. A completely free hour.

Nine of us Ravenclaws sprinted back to Ravenclaw Tower after the bell- there were eleven of us total, but Polly and Oscar were quiet and generally kept to themselves. Mostly they disappeared after class or after meals and reappeared at the next one, as if they could Apparate already (with the rare exception of Polly walking with us from breakfast to our first class, like that morning).

We arrived back at the common room breathless and windswept. Somehow we'd all found ourselves on the top of the Astronomy Tower before arriving at our correct destination. Luckily the door was open thanks to two sixth-year sisters who were entering as we got there, so we didn't have to wheeze out the answer to a riddle. Kevin caught the heavy door before it closed, and together he and Eric pushed it back open and held it for the rest of us.

Sure enough, there was a huge black thestral in the common room. Two second-years were riding it, sitting atop its back and giggling like madmen. A fourth-year girl was softly stroking its bony, skin-covered nose while her friend fed it from a pile of leafy green vegetables like cabbage and spinach ( _Vegetables? They're carnivores!_ ). Even Terry had a camera and was snapping pictures of the whole scene. He turned the camera toward us as we entered. "Smile!"

After Terry took our picture, we turned to the rest of the commons. It seemed that the thestral was old news to the rest of Ravenclaw House. Claws were lounging about and doing homework as usual, talking on and on about a potion that had exploded in first-period Potions or a Color-Changing Charm that had gone wrong in the last Charms class of the day and had turned a sixth-year Slytherin's entire face bright blue. But the horse was new to us, and with squeals we surrounded the creature and patted it. For not having any fur or feathers, its skin was _very_ soft.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an overly zealous Helen accidentally pull on the thestral's skeletal wing. I froze, as did my father's sister's daughter, but the thestral didn't even twitch. It just kept on calmly munching its lettuce.

It took only a few minutes before, like the rest of our House, we tired of the bone horse and swarmed a table to work on our homework. Of course, we couldn't focus too much on _that_ , either- not when it was Halloween!

An hour later, I rolled up my completed Transfiguration essay on Switching Spells- only half a scroll of parchment- and stowed it, my inkbottle, and my quill in my bag, which I then left in my dormitory. Lanie, Shawnee, Polly, and the boys were already all gone, so I walked down to the Great Hall with Millie and Helen. Halfway there, we met up with a great big posse of Gryffindor girls. Most of them were the more "popular" ones- Lorie Braithnoch, Lea Henshawe, Sami Wright, Juliet Livesey, Liana Joulon, and Elysa Scrope. Lorie was definitely the prettiest, but she was horribly shy; Lea was a loud blonde who had assumed the title of queen bee almost instantly after the Sorting; Sami was sarcastic and seemingly permanently bad-tempered; Juliet was flighty and giggly; Liana was quiet and kind; and Elysa was an incessant flirt who always seemed to be batting her eyelashes at some boy or another. Lyndsay was there too, however, along with a loud dark-haired girl named Melissa Webb and a short, slender redhead called Tamsin Kay. It seemed that the entire female first-year population of Gryffindor House had decided to walk down to the Halloween feast together.

Once Helen, Millie and I joined, though, the group split up. Melissa hurried ahead, no doubt to find her friends in the Great Hall. Millie and Helen integrated themselves into the middle of Lea's group, and as they walked ahead of us I could hear them chattering and sporadically bursting into dainty giggles or (in Sami's case) loud, grating cackles. Finally, I lagged behind with best friends Tamsin and Lyndsay, talking delightedly about our first Hogwarts feast besides the beginning-of-year one.

"Vince is _always_ tellin' me abou' the 'Ogwarts feasts," Lyndsay enthused as we clambered down a moving set of stairs (Tamsin slid down the railing). "'E always says 'Alloween is 'is favorite. 'E's never stayed for Christmas, though. Ah don't think we ever will- Mum an' Da want us home, ye know."

"Mum is always telling me about how legendary Hogwarts Christmases are," I sighed dreamily.

Muggle-born Tamsin bounced up and down excitedly on her tiptoes. "I can't wait for my first one! Everyone in the dorm says they're amazing."

"But I think I'll go home this year," I continued. "This is the longest I've ever been away from home, and I miss the borough terribly."

"Maybe we can convince our parents tae let us stay 'ere next year wi' Tam," Lyndsay said, affectionately nudging Tamsin, who shoved her right back. "Ah, for 'un, would _love_ tae see what 'Ogwarts comes up wi' for Christmas!"

"It's only Halloween," groaned Tamsin as we rounded a corner, nearly losing sight of the other girls. "Calm down about Christmas already!"

I stuck out my tongue at her and said to Lyndsay, "Mum's a bit strict when it comes to that sort of thing, but she'll probably let me if I have friends staying too. Safety in numbers, you know."

Reaching the rapidly closing doors of the Great Hall, we slipped through them before they could shut after Lea's group and hurried to our gables. Lanie had saved me a seat, and I sat down between her and a blonde girl who was facing away from me and towards the teachers' table.

As I took my seat, I took a moment to admire the decorations. My father had been right- the Great Hall's ornamentations were gorgeous. Jack-o'-lanterns lined the walls and dangled from the ceilings, with lights flickering out of horrific, jagged faces carved into their flesh. Candles too floated everywhere, dripping a little wax on the occasional student's plate, and he entire hall was lit with the golden light emitted from them. Orange streamers were tacked up all over the walls, fluttering ditheringly in a nonexistent breeze. Thousands of live bats swooped in gigantic black rivers over tables, around pumpkins and below candles, creating a sort of rugged effect. Pumpkin centerpieces were placed periodically up and down the tables, full of wizarding and Muggle candies alike. I reached for a Chocolate Frog in the closest pumpkin only to have my hand slapped away by Lanie, who scolded me like my mother that I should save my stomach for dinner.

"About time," Shawnee, who was sitting on the other side of the table, commented. "What took so long?"

"I walked down with Lyndsay," I replied, a bit short of breath. "You two left without me!"

"Sorry," Lanie apologized with a weak smile. "You seemed so engrossed in your parchment, and you looked like you were nearing the conclusion anyway. How you can write an essay that quickly is beyond me."

"Did you finish?" Shawnee asked.

I puffed up a bit at the praise. "I get it from Mum- she's a _Daily Prophet_ reporter, you know- and yes, I did. Didn't you two?"

"Yes, but I started before you," Lanie pointed out.

"I started before her and I _still_ haven't finished," Shawnee grumped, flicking a stray dark curl out of her face with one finger.

"Switching Spells are _so_ easy, though," Lanie told her.

I nodded in agreement and said excitedly, "I can't wait until we get to the harder stuff, like Transfiguring live animals-"

"Is that you, Aly?" said a voice on my right.

I'd been facing Lanie on my left, so I half-turned to see the blonde girl next to me. Upon seeing her features, that stub nose and those blue eyes, I gasped. " _Kitty?_ "

"Aly!" she replied happily, blue eyes twinkling as she leaned forward to give me a hug. Fourth-year Kitty was my next-door neighbor in Rowena's Borough, and during the summers she always used to regale me with tales of Hogwarts.

I hugged her back. "I haven't seen you here yet!"

"Or I, you! Where have you been?"

"The commons, mostly." I shrugged.

She leaned in and whispered, "Speaking of the commons, have you seen the thestral? Thestrals are-"

"The horse," I interrupted. "I know."

"It's so odd!" my neighbor gushed. "They're normally so dangerous. It's very peculiar, but if Professor Maduthy says they're safe to be around- I've never taken her class, you know, I'm in Divination and Arithmancy- I suppose they're all right."

Lanie, who had been listening to our conversation, perked up. "You take Arithmancy? What's it like?"

Kitty grinned at her, leaning back into the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. "I love it. It's like Muggle maths, only better. What's your name?"

Realizing I'd forgotten to introduce my friends to Kitty and vice versa, I quickly interrupted, "Kitty, this is Lanie and that's Shawnee." (Shawnee wasn't paying attention; she was staring at one of the Hufflepuff banners on the wall that had been nearly obscured by floating candles and orange streamers, completely lost in thought.) "Shawnee, Lanie, this is Kitty Willis, my next-door neighbor."

"Lovely to meet you," Kitty said pleasantly.

"And the same to you." Lanie nodded. "Now, what were you saying about arithmancy?"

"Why don't you and I switch seats for the moment, Lanie?" I suggested before they could immerse themselves in conversation. "So you don't have to talk around me?"

We had just switched seats, putting me on Lanie's left and to the right of Polly, when Headmistress McGonagall stood and clapped her hands. "Silence, please!"

All of the noise in the Great Hall immediately stopped. Kitty and Lanie, who had been discussing the magical properties of the number fourteen, paused in their conversation. Even Shawnee, who hadn't yet broken out of her abyss of thought, snapped to attention.

"As you all know," Headmistress McGonagall began calmly, "today is Halloween."

Everyone broke into cheers. Some people got up and danced about. Headmistress McGonagall fixed them all with glares and even called some out by name: "Please return to your seat, Mr. Alfray… you too, Miss Bean- _sit down, Mr. Winters._ " She stared disapprovingly but also fondly at someone who was sitting in the aisle between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables.

I blinked at the copper-haired boy.

 _Wait- he's standing up!_

A very short boy with very familiar features and a _very_ recognizable name grinned (not sheepishly at all, like I'd have thought one might after being called out by _Minerva McGonagall_ ) at the headmistress and disappeared behind a blonde Slytherin girl. I assumed Vincent- for he was obviously Vincent Winters, Lyndsay's older (but obviously much shorter) brother- had sat down.

"It is Halloween," Headmistress McGonagall continued, "and many of you may have seen the thestrals already." (Everyone murmured in agreement.) "Well, they seem not to be at all violent anymore. We will indeed be investigating _why_ these normally dangerous animals are acting so tame, but in the meantime-" she took a deep breath- "as they appear to be harmless and have tested to be so, at the requests of some of our students and faculty, each common room will be assigned its very own thestral."

We sat, stunned into silence, for a single second- but soon everyone was clapping and laughing, especially those who didn't have a pet of their own, like Lanie. I caught a glimpse of Rossalene at the Hufflepuff table, and she was smiling so widely I was surprised her face wasn't tearing clean in half.

"I'm going to ask that the prefects of each House come up to the staff table after the feast to collect supplies for their House thestral," Headmistress McGonagall announced. I could tell that she wasn't quite thrilled with the idea of 'House thestrals', but some of the other teachers- especially the Heads of House, and _especially_ Professors Damien and Gedding- looked thrilled. They had probably convinced her to agree to the plea of whoever had requested to keep the thestrals. "For now, make sure to check your common room's bulletin board for information on what each year must do to take care of their House thestral." She glanced out at us and sighed. "Oh, I suppose we can begin now. Let the Halloween feast commence!"

She hadn't even finished the word _commence_ when food appeared on the tables, as if the house-elves in the kitchens of Hogwarts were just as impatient as we were for the feast (if there _were_ house-elves in the kitchens; Dad always said there were, while Mum swore up and down that Hogwarts had freed all of its house-elves in her sixth year). Shawnee across from me grabbed for the steak. I went for the cauliflower gratin, but somehow our elbows grazed and I nearly dropped the portion I was serving myself. Luckily, I managed to keep a hold on my meal.

Polly was quiet throughout the feast, as usual, and halfway through our debate over racing brooms Shawnee dropped into another pool of thought, leaving me to talk to Art (who was sitting on her other side). Only when dessert arrived and I saw a large sponge cake on the table in front of me did I glance away from my fellow Ravenclaws. Sure enough, Johnny and Matt were attacking a sponge cake of their very own. I smiled and turned back to my own table, serving myself a vanilla fairy cake and sticking a chocolate biscuit in the pocket of my robes in case I needed a midnight snack.

When everyone was stuffed full, including myself, Headmistress McGonagall cleared the extra food with a wave of her wand. "Prefects to me, please! You too, Mr. Garza and Mr. Gonzalez! And good night to the rest of you."

I trailed towards the doors of the Great Hall, noticing how Johnny and Matt scampered excitedly up with the prefects towards Headmistress McGonagall, but was sidetracked by Art and Will. They hissed my name from where they leaned against the wall laughing. There were two other boys with them, both turned away from me- as I drew closer, they turned around. One was Conor and the other, Nick. I smiled at the former, ignored the latter, and asked Will and Art what was wrong.

Art ran a hand through his short, thick, dark curls. "Nothing's wrong. We wanted to ask your help."

"Oh?" I folded my arms. "With what?"

"Look at all these jack-o'-lanterns!" Conor said, hefting one into his arms with a grunt. It had large eyes and a toothy, creepy smile. I shuddered and focused on Conor instead.

"We want to take some back to the common rooms," Will explained, flagging down two more boys as they filed past. Both were Slytherins- Brandon Trotter and Eli Lupin. To tell the truth, I was a bit in awe of Eli. His parents were Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley- yes, _those_ two! That meant that his maternal grandparents were Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour (the older brother of Ron Weasley, best friend to Harry Potter himself, and the part-veela who had participated in the same Triwizard Tournament as Potter), and his paternal grandparents were Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks (the werewolf and Metamorphmagus who'd died in the Battle of Hogwarts 43 years before). It was incredibly exciting to know someone related to such famous people, let alone be in the same _year_ as him at school- let _alone_ TALK to him! Essentially, that meant that Eli was part-werewolf, part-veela, part-Weasley and part-Metamorphmagus (although he hadn't any powers). Because he had no powers, he was stuck with a Weasley red face and the Delacour red hair. Anyone could see why it was so easy to be wowed by him.

"To the common rooms?" I echoed. "Isn't that stealing?"

"Technically, they'll still be at Hogwarts," Nick pointed out.

"We're taking the jack-o'-lanterns?" Eli asked. "Epic! I want this one." He picked up a round pumpkin with dull and bumpy orange skin, long pointy teeth, and empty black eyes.

All of the boys started claiming pumpkins. I stood there, arms crossed. "Will, Art, you can't just _take_ those. You should at least _ask_ if you can before you do. You too!" I glared at the rest of them.

Conor met my gaze, pleadingly. "Come on, Aly. Don't be a spoilsport. They're just going to be Vanished anyway, and we only want to decorate our rooms with them." He smiled entreatingly, that same half-grin I just kept falling for more and more, and I found myself once again smiling _back_.

"Okay," I agreed. "I'll do it."

"Excellent!" Brandon laughed, grabbing a tall pumpkin with a large mouth and rounded teeth. "Here, you take this one." He hoisted it into my arms. I adjusted my grip on it, grabbed it by the stem and by the mouth-

" _Ouch!_ " I lost my grip on the jack-o'-lantern, which fell and smashed into pieces on the floor, and stared in shock and horror at my index finger. It had been sliced open to the bone. Blood was streaming from the wound in a cascade of red, and I nearly gagged.

All six boys were looking at me. Fortunately, no one in the rapidly-emptying Great Hall had heard the pumpkin smash or was watching us.

"How'd _that_ happen?" Art asked, wincing at the sight of my blood.

"I don't know!" I exclaimed, dizzying from the pain even though it was rapidly lessening. "It was like… it was like…"

"The pumpkin bit you!" Eli said, crouching down and picking up a pumpkin bit. It was a piece of the jack-o-lantern's mouth, and although I was sure its teeth had been rounded before, the tooth was now sharp as a sword and streaked in blood. _My_ blood.

"I'll walk you to the hospital wing," Nick offered.

"No thanks, I can find it myself," I snapped, turning around and rejoining the flow of people exiting the Great Hall without grabbing another pumpkin.

My finger was positively gushing blood as I stepped through the doors and into the corridor. _I_ really _need the hospital wing_ , I thought, shaking the blood off. It only made me dizzier. But it was crowded, and I couldn't manage to get to the right corridor through the flow of people.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I spun and glared at Nick. "I said I can find my own-"

He held up a handkerchief, pressed clean and glaringly white. "Want this? It can help staunch the bleeding until you can get up a floor to the hospital wing. My mum's a Healer."

I didn't want to accept the square of white cloth embroidered with a beautiful letter _N_ , but I felt that I had no choice. I accepted the handkerchief with a nod, and Nick wrapped it tightly around my finger, securing it with a tight knot.

"Square knot," he said, although I hadn't asked, as he released my hand. "Much better than any other kind of knot for this sort of thing."

I nodded. "I don't know about knots," I replied dumbly, looking down at my finger.

"I can teach you sometime." He grinned. "You'd never have a better teacher."

Red blossomed on the makeshift bandage as I gazed down at it, but it seemed to work.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," he replied with a saucy wink before disappearing into the crowd.

Just then, a path opened up to my left leading _exactly_ into the corridor that would get me to the staircase leading to the hospital wing. I took my chance and ran down it without looking back, arriving at my destination within minutes.

Madam Pomfrey took one look at my wrapped finger, unwrapped it, and healed my torn veins and flesh with a quick spell. She cleaned the handkerchief with another charm and handed it back to me. "You'd best thank whoever gave this to you," she informed me in a no-nonsense manner, gesturing to the now-clean embroidered _N_. "They've done you a great favor."

"I will, ma'am." My thoughts flashed to Nick and I tried not to grimace. "Thank you."

In order to get the cocky Gryffindor boy off my mind, I sprinted all the way back to Ravenclaw Tower. I was rather out of breath when I arrived, but it had worked. I climbed up to my dormitory, past Will and Art who were arranging pumpkins around the fire pit in the center of the common room, thinking of Conor. That grin, and how nice he was. I couldn't wait for my next Transfiguration class.

 **Ah, you know the drill. This was a pretty long chapter, which I think could** ** _possibly_** **make up for being so late. Once again, my apologies, and R &R to make this little Ravenclaw happy a week after her birthday! **

**~atrfla xox**


	8. Chapter 8: Flying Lessons

**Guys, I posted on _time_ for once!**

1.12.40

 _Dear Mum and Dad:_

 _Obviously I'm coming home for Christmas. I miss you both terribly. I got your letter this morning at breakfast, and I'm so sorry I didn't write all through November. I'm fine; I've just been swamped with schoolwork. It was nice to see Addison, though. I had some of Peltie's treats in my pocket, so I gave him those. He seems thinner. Perhaps we should take him to the Magical Menagerie or Eeylop's over the Christmas holiday?_

 _Speaking of schoolwork, I'm learning a lot. Just Thursday I perfected my_ Avifors _spell- I turned the scrap of cloth we were practicing with into a flock of bluebirds and made them fly around the classroom (I got top marks)- and yesterday I successfully brewed a Wiggenweld Potion. Only three other people in my class- Will, Lanie, and Rossalene- managed to get it right too, and Rossalene would've added more than five lionfish if the girl next to her (I've told you about Kayla Strait, right? Ana's twin?) hadn't been paying attention. All in all, I'm one of the top in my year. Aren't you proud?_

 _We almost didn't get to brew the Wiggenweld Potion yesterday, though. In early November, a bunch of ingredients started disappearing from the stores. Professor Fourier was all in a tizzy yesterday because he couldn't find any salamander blood- which you know is one of the if not_ the _most important ingredient in the entire concoction- but luckily Professor Maduthy had some stored away._ Why _, I'm not exactly sure, but she saved our class. (Oh, and since a bunch of our other ingredients are missing too, Professor Fourier says any donations- whether of money or of ingredients themselves- would be greatly appreciated.)_

 _How often did you get hurt here at Hogwarts? I know I told you about my finger in my last letter, but since a whole month has passed since then, I probably haven't told you about the staircase injury! I know staircases are prone to move and/or vanish, but did they ever vanish with students on them while you were at Hogwarts? They're starting to now. And no one comes out unharmed, either. Two weeks ago a whole staircase full of Slytherin second-years disappeared from the third floor and reappeared on the fifth. Every single one of the victims had three identical paper cuts on their left palm (or so Brooklyn tells me, anyway). Madam Pomfrey fixed them up easily, of course, just like she did when that pumpkin bit me. I know you think that there must have been something sharp in the pumpkin that cut me, Mum, but I swear it bit me! The tooth sharpened and everything! Biting jack-o'-lanterns, disappearing staircases, matching cuts… there's something really odd about all of this._

 _Even the thestrals are strange! Remember how I told you about the thestrals (and how the Ravenclaw seventh-years couldn't decide what to name ours)? Well, they did end up choosing a name. The Claw thestral's name is Rowen. They figured it would be a good way to honor Rowena Ravenclaw, even though our thestral's a boy. We tried to switch with Slytherin (they have a girl thestral that the seventh-years there named Tanith) but they refused to give her up. It's okay. Rowen was already accustomed to our commons, anyway._

 _And to us feeding him, too! See, I guess Headmistress McGonagall thought that the first-years aren't yet used to the school, so we don't feed Rowen in the morning or at lunchtime. In the evening, though, every day, we bring back lettuce and other vegetables (he likes cabbage best) for our thestral to eat. According to Professor Maduthy, the fact that the thestrals are ignoring meat and eating vegetables is the craziest thing about this year. She's running tests and adding on to her N.E.W.T. curriculum and even paying the older students to help her during free periods. I'm not sure if that's legal, but this whole thing is already weird enough that a bit more won't hurt._

 _But not everything is different here. In fact, I finally understand why you loved watching Hogwarts Quidditch so much, Mum! So far, I've been to two games and the next one doesn't happen until February. It's going to be Ravenclaw versus Slytherin, and I can't wait. Did I tell you who's a Chaser on the Ravenclaw team? Kitty, Mr. and Mrs. Willis's daughter from next door. She isn't Captain, though, since she's only a fourth-year- that's Terry. I've told you both about Terry, haven't I? He's the Head Boy, and the team's Keeper. I don't know the names of the other two Chasers, the Seeker and one of the Beaters, but I_ do _know the last Beater. His name is Isaiah Bramson, and he's a fifth-year. I only know him because he brought a Bludger back to the common room to practice after he made the team in his second year (or so legend says) and that's why one of the common room windows is newer than the rest. He's an absolute powerhouse on the field, you know. Another Ravenclaw tale says he hit a Bludger towards a Chaser who was about to score last year, the Chaser dodged it- he dropped the ball, too, allowing Ravenclaw to reclaim it and score the Cup-winning goal- and the Bludger hit one of the goal posts, actually cracking it! Obviously the teachers repaired it, but Kitty swears by her broomstick that if you fly up and examine it the pole's just a tiny bit shinier where it was cracked. I can't go up there, obviously, since I don't have my broom with me yet. Next year!_

 _Oh! I almost forgot. You know how our flying lessons have just kept being cancelled due to what Headmistress McGonagall calls 'inclement weather that first-years cannot be expected to fly in'? Well, Gryffindor and Slytherin got to do theirs last week, and ours is scheduled for a week from today. It was supposed to be today, but the rain's pelting down outdoors. I'm not going to send Peltie with this letter until it lets up. It might be a while._

 _Again, I'm sorry I didn't write. Love to both of you. Feed Geoffrey an Owl Treat for me, Mum. Dad, you'll be excited to know that the other Ravenclaw Beater (not Isaiah, the other one) is a seventh-year! Next year I'll be able to go for the position. We'll have to practice over the summer holiday._

 _Love,_

 ** _Aly_**

 _P.S. Has it snowed at home yet? Still waiting for snow here._

* * *

5/12/40

 _Dear Aly:_

 _Good thing you wrote when you did, your mother was worrying herself sick. If you hadn't replied to that letter within a week she was going to take my broomstick and fly to Hogwarts herself, no matter how much she hates the air. Also, I wondered why Addison seemed happier. You're right, kid- he does seem to be growing thin. We'll take him to Eeylop's together in a few weeks._

 _Congratulations on your grades. Your mum and I expect top marks, Es at worst. Even_ I _failed the Wiggenweld Potion the first time I brewed it. (Your mother did too, but she pretends not to remember. Only one person got it the first time in her year- no one did in mine- and now he's a top Ministry potioneer.) Keep up the good work._

 _Ingredients disappearing? That happened once while I was at school, in my sixth year. Turned out some seventh-year Slytherins had gotten together, stolen the ingredients, and attempted to brew a love potion to slip into the star Hufflepuff Quidditch Keeper's pumpkin juice. I think one of the girls was expelled. None of your friends are trying to brew potions that are way beyond them, right? That's highly dangerous. I speak not as your dad right now but as a high-ranking member of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes:_ don't let anyone you know do anything dangerous. _It would reflect badly on me and on you if your friends blew up Hogwarts._

 _I didn't get hurt often and neither did your mother, but then again, Hogwarts was relatively peaceful during the collective nine years we were there. And Aly, staircases don't vanish. They move around a lot, but they don't just disappear and reappear willy-nilly. And if they do, they_ definitely _wouldn't with students on them. Hogwarts may be a peculiar school, but it won't harm its students. It's like a mother hen with her chicks. Whatever's happening must be different. Maybe Peeves is messing something up. He's always doing tricks. Have you met that poltergeist yet?_

 _Your mum still thinks there must have been something sharp in that pumpkin. I don't think so. If Peeves is messing with the staircases, he could have messed with the jack-o'-lanterns too._

 _Rowen the thestral, huh? I can't say I approve of the House-thestral idea- my buddies in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures are always talking about thestral attacks- but it_ is _a good way to honor Ravenclaw's founder. Brownie points for that. Try not to get_ too _close to Rowen, though- don't ride him or anything, and try to let the other first-years feed him more. Make sure there's always a seventh-year or an adult nearby whenever you interact with him, too. I don't want you- any of you, really- getting attacked by a thestral. (Although you could try feeding him a Chinese Chomping Cabbage. I'd love to see that. Maybe it's just the joker coming out in me. Do it, but stay far away and don't tell anyone I suggested it, okay?)_

 _Watching Quidditch is fun, Aly, but playing it's the best. If Beater's what you want to play, we'll train you for Beater. I'd prefer you to take after me as a Chaser, of course, but at least you want to play Quidditch. It's better than taking after your mum and just watching. (Don't tell her I said that.) Has Ravenclaw been winning? You've been going out to support them at practices too, right?_

 _Kitty Willis? I didn't know Mr. and Mrs. Willis had a daughter. I thought the blonde girl was their niece who visited a lot. (That is Kitty, right?) I could've sworn Mr. Willis said as such that one day I was pruning the backyard Flutterby bushes, but okay. And I don't remember anything about any Terry, but he sounds just like what you will most likely be in your seventh year. I would take tips from him on how to handle it all if he's willing to dispense advice. Too much to handle can be like a smash to the head in your seventh year. Not fun!_

 _It's about time you got your flying lessons, by the way! I can't wait for you to stride onto that practice field and show everyone how a Salinger flies. We're no Potters, but we're bloody close._

 _Geoffrey says thank you for the Owl Treat. (Well, he doesn't, but you understand what I mean.)_

 _And yes, it's snowing here as I write this. Your mum's been stuck at work an awful lot lately, and this snow doesn't help._

 _Love from_

 ** _Dad_** _(and Mum)_

 _P.S. Most Quidditch legends are just that- stories. I wouldn't believe most of them. Still, if you can, I'd like to know if that pole-crack story is true. In no way am I approving breaking the rules… so don't get caught, and don't tell your mother._

* * *

I folded the letter back up, stuffed it in the envelope, and sighed. My dad's letter was long, contradictory, and confusing (as my dad's letters often were), but one thing stood out: staircases don't just vanish.

Frowning, I slipped the letter into the pocket of my robes and leaned back in my chair. It was Friday night after dinner, and the common room was bustling with students doing homework, fawning over Rowen, and talking loudly. Lanie and Shawnee spotted me glancing around and waved me over.

"What's wrong?" Lanie asked as I approached.

Shawnee added, "You look like you're grimacing."

"I got a letter from Dad," I mumbled. "He says staircases don't just disappear."

Lanie cocked her head. "Huh. That's odd. Did he have any guesses as to why they are now?"

I nodded. "Peeves."

"That could make sense," Shawnee mused. "Although I haven't actually seen him around yet, only heard rumors."

"Maybe he's possessing a staircase," Lanie suggested, setting us all a-giggle.

I woke up the next morning and immediately leaped out of bed, rushing to the window. Judging by the way the trees were whipping around, it was pretty windy, but it wasn't raining, sleeting, or snowing! I let out a big whoop, waking up the rest of the first-year Ravenclaw girls.

"Flying lessons today?" Helen asked blearily from behind her bedcurtains.

"Flying lessons today!" I confirmed, a huge smile breaking across my pale face.

The five of us- Polly disappeared after getting dressed, as usual- practically stormed down to breakfast, but we were mostly too excited to eat. Millie, Helen and I had obviously all flown before, and I didn't think Lanie had ever been on a broom. It was the same with Muggle-born Shawnee. Both of them were nervous, but the thrilling enthusiasm that Millie, Helen and I were feeling was spilling over onto them.

Our energy was so great that we were the first people out on the part of the grassy lawn that people sometimes referred to as the 'practice field' because first-years always learned to fly on it. A short, skinny, greying man with a full salt-and-pepper beard was laying brooms out on the ground in perfect, neat rows.

He caught sight of us. "Ravenclaw first-years? Or Hufflepuff?"

We all nodded at _Ravenclaw_ , adjusting the House scarves we had wrapped around our necks. In addition to being breezy, it was bitterly cold out- but the skies seemed fairly clear, which was good.

Placing one last broomstick in the second row, he stood and adjusted his own scarf. It was old, patched, and grey, but I thought I spotted a faded Gryffindor crest stitched on the end before he flipped it over his shoulder. "My name is Sir Fergus Sutherland, the flying instructor here at Hogwarts School. Former Gryffindor Seeker-" _I knew it!_ \- "and current Quidditch referee for the House Cup. Are any of you thinking of trying out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team next year?" He scrutinized Lanie with one grey eye. "You have the right build for a Seeker, Miss-"

"Kelling," Lanie responded, "Lanie Kelling."

"You're small, light- probably fast on a broom," he continued. "Most first-years are, but some are taller." He pointed at me. "You'd probably be best as a Chaser- you all would be." He gestured to Millie and Helen too, then turned to Shawnee. "You look stronger than the average first-year. Perhaps you'd be best suited for a life as a Beater or even a Keeper, although you're a little on the short side for the latter."

My mouth dropped open. _Chaser? Shawnee- Beater?_ "No way!" I blurted out. "I want to be a Beater!"

Sir Sutherland frowned. "You don't really have the build for a Beater, although I've had some small and skinny students turn out to be fairly decent, Miss-"

"Alyssa Salinger."

His eyes narrowed. "Daughter of Ben Salinger and- oh, what was her name? I know she was a Black sister-"

"Hesper Black?" I said, bored already.

"That's it," he crowed. "She and her sister were a few years younger than me here at Hogwarts, and of course Ben was even younger. Hesper never liked flying- she preferred to watch- but Benjamin was the star Chaser on his team, and the Captain too according to my little sister when she was at Hogwarts, oh yes."

"Those are my parents," I allowed, squinting at him. "I still want to be a Beater."

"You're tall," he agreed, "but much too slender. You'd have to put on a decent amount of muscle to lift a Beater's club, much less swing it-" He caught sight of something over my shoulder. "Now _he_ could be a Beater!"

I tuned to see the Ravenclaw boys- minus Oscar, obviously- heading rapidly toward us. Art was in the lead, and he was just like me- tall, skinny, all that. I frowned. "Art? The one with dark curly hair?"

"No," Sir Sutherland corrected as the boys skidded to a stop beside us. " _Him._ " He clapped a hand on Will's shoulder.

Will smiled affably. "Beater? I _would_ like to try out for it next year."

"You and Isaiah would make a great team," Sir Sutherland assured him, and Art nodded his agreement.

I ground my teeth. _Yes_ , Will was tall and stocky and probably stronger than I was, but I had Quidditch in my blood and fire in my soul! I pointed at Will and asked, "Greene, have you ever even flown before?"

He shrugged. "Once or twice."

" _Once_ or _twice?_ " I nearly shrieked. I knew I was being bratty, but how could he expect to be a Beater next year if he couldn't even _fly?_ Unless he was a flying prodigy like Harry Potter or something, but I seriously doubted he was.

By then everyone else was there, watching me fighting for people to believe in my chances at being a Beater. All the Hufflepuffs were staring open-mouthed. I caught Rossalene giving me two thumbs-ups. She mouthed, _You go, girl!_

Will opened his mouth to speak, but Sir Sutherland cut him off. "You two can discuss this later-" _As if he wasn't the one who started this!_ \- "but for now, welcome to flying lessons! Please line up and stand on the left side of a broom."

We all did so. I was still fuming at Will, so I made sure to position myself across from him. _That way I can see if he can truly fly… or if I'll beat him next year by a landslide_.

"On the count of three," Sir Sutherland ordered, "I want you to stick your hand out over your broom and say _Up!_ Everyone ready? One, two, three!"

" _Up!_ " I barked.

" _Up!_ " the people around me yelled.

The broom- it was a Cleansweep Five, a _horribly_ old broom but a decently reliable one- immediately leaped to life, jumping into my hand. I smiled and stroked the cracked handle with my thumb, then looked around to see what other people's brooms had done.

Lanie's had jumped into her hand, too, but she was holding it wrong since she had caught it in some sort of twisted backhand; Shawnee was holding hers with two hands, as if she was afraid it might fly away; Millie and Helen, of course, were standing straight and proud like me; Rossalene's had just wiggled a little bit; Kayla's was in her hand, but Ana's had rolled down the hill we were standing on and now lay at the foot.

I glanced at the boys. Art had just picked his up off the ground, I could tell from his grip; Kevin's broom hadn't even moved; Matt's broom had jumped into Johnny's hand and vice versa. Will's hadn't cooperated at _all_. It had soared up past his outstretched hand, and without the reflexes he would need to be a Beater, it had smacked into his eye, wiping the look of confidence and arrogance from his face. His eye was closed and almost swelling already, and he was clutching it with both hands. His broom lay backwards on the ground, almost as smug-looking as I was sure I was.

I felt bad, sure, but I couldn't help thinking: _Definitely not a prodigy_.

Sir Sutherland moved down our lines, critiquing us. "Your broom's all the way down there? Well, go get it… adjust your fingers a little bit... it's not a sword, don't look like you're going to hit someone with it… switch your hand to the other side, Miss Kelling… yours is upside down, _there_ you go…" He reached me, Millie and Helen, standing in a row with our brooms held perfectly. He examined us. "You three have obviously flown before. Miss-"

"Millie Thresher," Millie introduced herself.

"Move your hand up the handle a little bit, Miss Thresher- _perfect_. As for you two-" he pointed to Helen and me- "marvelous form." Then he moved down the row, finishing the girls and switching over to the boys (although some of the girls were on the boys' side because there were more girls than boys). "Did you two switch brooms? Never mind that, just adjust your grip a little bit… you just picked yours up off the ground, I can tell because of your horrid form… oh! Did it hit your eye?"

Will nodded. A bruise was starting to form, very slightly green, around the area where the end of the broom had hit.

Sir Sutherland sighed, pulled out his wand, and tapped the bruising area with it. "Happens every year. There's always one overzealous one. Lighten up, son- brooms don't like show-offs!" Then he continued down the line, and I had to hide a smirk.

"Now that you're all holding your brooms correctly," he continued after adjusting the rest of my classmates' forms, "swing one leg over your broom. Make sure to grip the handle tightly with two hands- too many people just fall off when flying because they never learned this- but not _too_ tightly. Brooms like people who like to fly. Don't be scared of them."

I was holding the broom in my right hand, so I swung my right leg over the broom and brought my left hand to the handle. I could sense the broom's excitement thrumming through it- or maybe that was just mine. I hadn't flown in over three months, and I missed being in the air with my curls whipping me in the face. As if to try and satisfy me, the wind seemed to blow just a little bit harder, sending my light brown hair into my eyes.

Millie looked over at me and collapsed into giggles. "Your face is so red and your hair's all in it too," she wheezed.

I laughed a little too, just as Sir Sutherland came over to fix our form. He frowned at Millie and me. "Your posture is horrible, Miss Thresher. Straighten your spine- yes, that's it. Miss Salinger, move a little further down the seat, like so- _yes,_ good, good."

My arms were stretching, uncomfortably long, but I held the pose.

" _Much_ better," he complimented us. "The two of you are going to kick off on the count of four, and you're going to land on the count of six. That means that when you hear five, start coming down. You have all flown before- do I need to give you any further instruction?"

We shook our heads, and he moved on. I heard him tell Helen and Nicole, who was on my cousin's other side, to lift off on five and land on seven. When he had given everyone a count, he stood between our two lines and said, loudly but firmly, "One!"

Ana and, across from her, Oscar rose into the air. Ana looked wobbly and her face was greenish, but Oscar seemed as impassive as ever. Did he really have any passions for anything at _all?_

"Two!"

Kayla and Shawnee kicked off, and Ana and Oscar gratefully started back towards the ground. Shawnee was stolid in the air, and unlike her twin Kayla seemed to be a natural at flying.

"Three!"

Lanie and Rossalene to my left kicked off just as the first group touched down, Ana looking absolutely relieved to be on firm ground again. Lanie immediately did a barrel roll- whether it was on purpose or not, she came up grinning- but Rossalene was gripping the handle of her broom for dear life. Kayla and Shawnee, the former looking rather disappointed, started back towards the ground.

"Four!"

As Kayla and Shawnee touched down, Millie and I kicked off. I breathed a sigh of pure joy as I began to rise. How I'd missed that sensation of weightlessness during a perfect kickoff! Maneuvering my broom around, I swooped low to the ground and high-fived Lanie, who had been slowly sinking towards earth.

"Miss Salinger!" Sir Sutherland shouted. I stopped in midair and looked down at him, small against green terrain. He was nodding, but he looked angry, his face an ugly reddish-purple. "Stay in your _spot!_ "

I shrugged half-apologetically, channeling Nick, and flew back to my spot beside Millie. My friend whispered something, but it was lost in the wind.

"Five!"

Helen and Millie started rising, Lanie and Rossalene landed, and Millie and I began descending slowly, rolling our eyes.

As we touched down on six and dropped our brooms, I turned to her. "What did you say?"

"I said _that was bloody awesome_ ," Millie said through laughter. "First-rate flying right there! Much better than seeing who can race down the street to old Mrs. Hodgins' house the fastest without flying too high or crashing into the rhododendrons along the edge of the Willis family's yard, right?"

" _Much_ better," I agreed. Just then, something cold and wet, like a tiny frozen pinprick, landed right on the tip of my nose.

I glanced up, as did my classmates- even those on the brooms. Snowflakes were falling! In clumps, they spiraled down to land on our broomsticks, our robes, and our skin. As the number of snowflakes in the air rapidly multiplied, I shivered.

Sir Sutherland had noticed the snow, too. As the wind grew stronger, whipping my hair around with a renewed fury, he bellowed something up to Jamie and Ella, who were struggling to control their brooms high above us in the air. The wind's swift fingers snatched his words away, so through the snow he gestured rapidly for the pair of Hufflepuffs to come down.

Jamie zoomed down and lost her balance, collapsing in a heap of broom and Hufflepuff girl an inch off the ground right in front of Sir Sutherland. Luckily, Conor's sister seemed fine, and I released the breath I hadn't even known I was holding in. As the coach helped her up, I glanced back up towards Ella. The winds were buffeting her around like Mary and Carrie with a ball of yarn or a black mouse, and she looked petrified, a rag doll unable to be freed.

I made a split decision. _The winds aren't_ that _bad, and Ella needs help!_ Grabbing my broom from the ground, I swung a leg over it and pushed off.

"Aly!" I heard Millie yell as I cut through the freak storm. I didn't look down, still focused on Ella, and the wind was roaring in my ears, but I could vaguely hear shouts of surprise from below and I guessed more of my classmates were noticing that I'd once again disobeyed Sir Sutherland. I ignored them and pushed my broom harder, flying into the winds so they wouldn't blow me back.

I reached Ella within seconds, despite the conditions. She was pale, her tan knuckles white on her broom, her thin black hair messy from the squall and dusted with snowflakes that were as white as her huge, terrified eyes.

Daring to take a hand off of my broom- dangerous in any inclement weather, even if you knew how to fly, but especially idiotic in strong winds and snow, when control and visibility were poor- I grabbed Ella's arm. Tightly.

"Keep hanging on to your broom!" I yelled in her ear.

Without knowing if she'd heard, I tilted the nose of my broom downwards and fought against the winds as I descended, pulling Ella with me. I could feel my hand slipping off of my broom, and when I was ten feet or so off the ground it slipped off completely. I made a wild grab for my handle but missed, and the winds blew me straight off of my seat. Not wanting to bring Ella down with me in free-fall, I let go of her too, and found myself hurtling through the air at an alarming and distressing rate.

I felt the impact before it happened; just as I closed my eyes, I landed hard on my left side, and a nasty _crack_ sounded in the air, louder than even the winds. A sharp pain shot up my arm, wrapping my limb in uncomplicated agony, and I shrieked.

Ella tumbled to the grass beside me. She seemed to be unhurt, and I would've sighed in relief but for the screaming pains in my arm.

Sir Sutherland appeared at my side, his face as white as Ella's. "Broken arm," he murmured, helping me get to my feet. "Come on now, let's get you to the hospital wing. The rest of you-" he raised his voice- "class is dismissed. Please pick up your brooms and deposit them just inside the doorway on your way inside. Hurry now, this storm's not getting any lighter."

He escorted me inside and through the corridors, pulling on my good arm, alternating between "That was _highly_ dangerous! You oughtn't have done that!" and praising my skills on a broom. At the hospital wing, he handed me over to Madam Pomfrey, explained what had happened, and left to clean up the broomsticks with a parting pat on the shoulder.

"An accident at flying lessons? That hasn't happened in a long time," Madam Pomfrey fumed as she tapped my arm with her wand and mumbled healing spells. "You should _not_ have flown in a blizzard, let alone as a first-year."

 _It wasn't a_ blizzard, I thought. _Just some weird storm that came on freakishly fast._

Her face softened, and for a moment I thought she'd read my mind, but she just said, "It was quite heroic of you to save Miss Nguyen. She could have been seriously hurt, worse than a broken arm- she could have _died_ flying an out-of-control broom in a windy snowstorm. So thank you for that." She tapped my forearm with her wand one last time. "There you are, Miss Salinger, you may leave now. I expect not to see you back in this hospital wing until at least after the holidays, do you understand?"

"I understand," I said, hopping up off of the bed I'd been sitting on and wiggling my fingers in exultation.

Brooklyn was leaning against the wall outside the hospital wing, opposite the doors, arms folded. She coolly raised an eyebrow when I burst out. "Your arm's okay?"

"Yep!" I said, smiling widely and showing off my fully healed arm.

"Is the story true? About how you saved Ella?"

"I- well-"

"And so modest, too," she quipped.

As we walked, I asked, "How did you hear so quickly about the flying lessons?"

I was in the library," she answered, "and Ross came in all in a tizzy and told Leja and me. She stayed with Leja helping her with the Charms essay even though she was worried sick about you, and I came instead."

I nodded, swinging my arm back and forth as we turned into a corridor. It still felt a little bit sore, but no sharp pains remained

"I wanted to talk to you, anyway."

I grinned. "About?"

Brooklyn grimaced. "Don't you think…" She hesitated, and then went on, "Don't you think you're being a bit of a show-off?"

I stopped walking. " _What?_ "

"A show-off," Brooklyn repeated, stopping beside me. "I mean, you flew in a blizzard-"

"To help Ella!"

"-I heard about you showing off during flying by high-fiving Lanie, too-"

"It felt good to be on a broom again!"

"-you brewed the Wiggenweld Potion-"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "It was a _class assignment!_ "

Brooklyn kept listing. "You showed up to Charms late on the first day of school and Professor Brocklehurst _still_ likes you, you read under the desks during classes but are one of the top in the year… I mean, Aly, maybe you should slow down a little. If you're going to be one of the top of the class, don't you think you ought to actually _pay attention_ during the lessons?"

"I read _two times_ during History of Magic- and it was all in the textbook, which I've already read twice over!" I exclaimed in disbelief.

She ignored me. "And if you're reading under the tables during class, you obviously don't care about learning, so why don't you just fail a quiz or don't do a homework assignment once in a while?"

Suddenly I was buzzing with rage, angry that Brooklyn was trying to live my life for me, furious that _she_ of all people was trying to tell _me_ what to do- so before I could even understand what I was saying, I shouted, "I can't help it if you're jealous that I'm smarter than you!"

Brooklyn's tan face blanched.

Instantly, I realized what I'd said. Reaching out to my cousin, I said softly, "Brooklyn, no- that's not what I meant… I-"

"Don't." Brooklyn pushed past me, her long dark wavy hair flouncing angrily around her shoulders, and disappeared around a corner.

I ran after her, turning the corner- "Brooklyn, no, wait!"- but she was gone.

 _Gah!_ I wanted to slam my fist into the wall, to break my arm _again-_ I deserved it, after all (who _said_ something like that to their own flesh and blood?)- but I didn't, I couldn't, for fear Madam Pomfrey would be infuriated when I walked _back_ into the hospital wing. Brooklyn got mad easily, yes, but why had I provoked her? I knew full well that it irked her when people seemed to loaf about and still succeeded at whatever they barely tried to do. Why had I called her jealous? Brooklyn was many things- cool, calculating, funny- but she was rarely ever truly jealous, and she hated when people said she was.

I was wandering around, trying to think of how to make it up to Brooklyn, when I suddenly found myself in front of a very large, very dark, very _familiar_ door.

 **Oooooh! *wiggly fingers* A fight between cousins (right before Christmas, too), a familiar door, a possible Quidditch rivalry... how in the world will Aly fix all of the problems she's created? I suppose you'll find out on Christmas Eve!**

 **Please don't forget to review, people- I thrive off of positive criticism and affection!**

 **~atrfla xox**


	9. Chapter 9: In The Weeks Before Christmas

_The mirrors!_

My revelation startled me into stumbling back from the door.

 _I can bring Brooklyn here and show her the mirrors!_

I'd seen a silver one and a Gryffindor one- was there a Slytherin one? A _Ravenclaw?_

 _I'll check it out and then go find Brooklyn_ , I decided, reaching for the doorknob.

"Wow," I breathed once I stepped inside.

The room wasn't tiny, nor was it long and thin. No, instead it was a wide, square room with windows peppered along the side- windows showing sunshine and rolling green fields! It was definitely not the _real_ outside, which to my knowledge was still full of wind and snow and ice. The walls of the room were painted a bright, cheery yellow and draped in gauzy golden banners. Black trim wrapped around the room where the walls touched the ceiling and floor, and the latter was made of shimmering black tile. And set on the opposite wall from the door was a mirror.

It was perfectly round, a large circle, the glass without tint and surrounded by a thick frame striped with yellow and black. It looked like a bumblebee, but somehow wasn't gaudy or cheesy at all. The glass shimmered invitingly, and the yellow walls seemed to turn half a shade brighter as I approached.

I smiled at my reflection, but the smile I got back was two times wider and a whole lot kinder, not as wary as I was sure mine must have been. My reflection had slightly broader shoulders, a squarer jaw, skin just a tiny shade darker than mine, and hands that seemed to be covered in thin calluses. I got the feeling that whoever she was, she'd done a lot of hard work in her life.

 _Hard work. Kindness. Yellow and black._

"Hufflepuff," I said in surprise. "This is the Hufflepuff mirror…"

My reflection only smiled.

"So there _are_ more," I whispered, stroking the glass with a slender pale finger.

My reflection mouthed the words I was saying as I uttered them, just like a real reflection, and then just looked at me. All at once, disappointment and shame washed over me like a tidal wave, and I knew exactly why. It was because I had insulted Brooklyn, and she had an idea as to how to make it up to her- at least, I hoped she did. And it was different than simply showing her the mirrors, letting her in on a secret.

"She won't listen to me," I realized out loud. "If I tell her I found a really amazing mirror, or room- or even if I just tell her I want to show her something- she'll ignore me. I have to regain her trust, and _then_ I can show her, just like a real friend would."

My reflection's emerald eyes softened. I glanced, away from her, down to another reflection of mine- a reflection with no added values, simply shimmering on the dark shiny floor. I looked up at the walls that were covered in light and transparent material, out at the greenery and the faux sunshine that lit up the room, and finally back at the mirror.

"Hufflepuff," I exclaimed for the second time in as many minutes. "I have to embody the values of a Hufflepuff. Hard work- I have to work in all of my classes if I want to top the year. Kindness- I have to be nice and accepting, and I _can't_ be a showoff. I even have to be loyal, just like Rossalene and Kayla and Ana and Matt and Johnny and all of the rest of my Hufflepuff friends."

I met my own eyes in the mirror. "That's what I have to do. Isn't it?"

Then I realized I was talking to a mirror, blushed, and fled the room.

Over the next few days, I strived to show Brooklyn I wasn't lazy or rude. I participated in all of my classes, didn't touch a book that wasn't a textbook (even though _Where There's a Wand, There's a Way_ by Orenda F. Gascoigne kept calling to me from the very end of my bookshelf), helped other people, and purposely didn't do a History of Magic essay. Okay, I didn't quite go _that_ far- I just forgot to do it. But it still helped my case. And my parents didn't have to know.

I knew my strategy had worked when Brooklyn, having apparently forgiven me in record time, ran up to me on Tuesday the eleventh after dinner. "Did you hear?" she asked me excitedly. "About Nearly Headless Nick?"

I frowned. "The Gryffindor ghost?" I'd only ever seen him at feasts- same with the other three House ghosts. Nearly Headless Nick, the Bloody Baron, and the Fat Friar apparently showed themselves a lot to their House students. The Grey Lady, however, who was the Ravenclaw ghost and the only female of the bunch, was reclusive and shy. I'd never even talked to her, much less seen her outside of feasts.

She nodded. "All the Gryffindors were talking about him during Potions. Apparently he went completely off his rocker after lunch and trashed the Gryffindor common room. I didn't even know ghosts could _get_ in the commons."

I frowned more deeply. "Sounds more like Peeves. Are you sure it wasn't him?"

"Lyndsay swore up and down that she saw Nearly Headless Nick throwing chairs across the room with her own two eyes," Brooklyn explained. "I wonder why he went so bonkers."

"Do you think he'll be removed from his position?" I wondered as we walked.

"Probably for a little while," my best friend mused, "until he calms down."

"That's smart," I agreed.

And it was, so that's what Headmistress McGonagall ended up doing. She announced on Friday at dinner that Nearly Headless Nick (or _Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington_ , as she called him) had made a mess of the Gryffindor common room for no perceivable reason, and that he would be 'on leave' until he returned to his normal, calmed-down state.

As Christmas break approached, I grew more and more excited. I sent a letter home asking for Mum and Dad to pick up specific presents for my friends- Spindle's Lick'O'Rish Spiders for Millie, a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ for Lanie, etc. Brooklyn was the only one I didn't request a present for. I'd had Brooklyn's gift since early August, when I'd gone to Diagon Alley to pick up my school things. A huge black feather quill streaked with green and silver and a matching pot of green ink had been on sale for eight Sickles apiece- _plus_ the quill was a Self-Spelling one. Brooklyn _hated_ spelling errors, and I knew for a fact that her own Self-Spelling quill was starting to get old and the charm was wearing off.

On the night of Friday the twenty-first, I was packing my bags to go home the following day when I realized that I'd left my copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander- sent to me by my parents when I'd first told them about the thestrals- in the common room. It was getting fairly late and I ought to have been asleep, but I didn't want to leave anything behind that I might want to use during the break. So I trudged out the door and down the stairs, and into the crazily crowded common room.

Despite the lateness, there were a lot of people awake, chattering and doing old homeworks and reading and stargazing. After lancing around for the telltale red cover of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , I spotted it under a pile of papers in front of a stocky black boy with a shaved head. It was Isaiah Bramson.

Slipping through the crowd, I cautiously approached him. "Er- Isaiah? Isaiah Bramson?"

He looked up, fixing me with dark eyes. "Yeah, that's me. Hey, aren't you a first-year? Why are you still up? You should be fast asleep by now."

I smiled nervously. "Yes, I just- I'm packing my things to go home for the holiday, and I think that's my copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ under your papers." I pointed.

Isaiah glanced at the book. "Oh, yeah. I wondered whose it was, but wasn't about to move it. Here." He tugged the book out from under the stack of parchment, handing it to me; a few assorted papers came out with it and fluttered to the floor.

I stooped, picked them up, and gave those back. "Thank you. What are all of these papers for? Surely no teacher would assign homework over the holiday?"

He sighed. "I don't know how, but today during Potions class a friend's cauldron corroded and melted part of the floor. It's why Potions had to be moved to Classroom 6B today."

"Oh, _that's_ why." I nodded. Headmistress McGonagall had announced that at lunch earlier but had provided no details.

"I'm not doing too well in Potions," Isaiah continued, "and Professor Fourier promised that the first person to successfully figure out why the potion dissolved both Christina's cauldron and the floor gets a lot of extra credit."

"What were you brewing?" I asked curiously.

He grimaced. "First-year Cure for Boils. No one's ever messed up that potion before."

I thought for a moment. "Pungous onions are highly acidic," I offered then. "Maybe your friend added too many, or didn't slice them thinly enough?"

"I've already thought of that," Isaiah said with a melancholy twist of his lips. "Tried it out after my last class of the day. It didn't work no matter how many I put in or how thickly I sliced them, and Christina swears she put in the correct amount and they were properly cut."

I smiled and clutched my book. "Well, best of luck! Have a nice holiday!" Then I dashed back up to pack _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ in my trunk and go to sleep.

 **Speaking of** ** _Fantastic Beasts_** **, you've all seen the movie, right? If you haven't- oh my, it was absolutely amazing, and you totally should go see it!**

 **Next chapter will be the Christmas chapter- I seem to enjoy writing the Christmas chapters as Chapter 10, don't I? It'll be the first chapter of the New Year! I'm quite excited, even though I couldn't get it out on Christmas or anything.**

 **I hope you all had some very happy holidays, and have a joyful, crazy New Year!**

 **~atrfla**

 **One last thing, and this is very important- I've noticed a disturbing lack of reviews lately. Please, guys, even if it's just a simple "Good job" or "I liked when this character did that" or _something_ , I really enjoy getting reviews. It makes my day. Can we all make New Year's resolutions to review more? Please?**


	10. Chapter 10: Toujours Pur

**Happy New Year! Are you ready for 2017?**

I hurled myself at my mum and dad, hugging them tightly. It was the Saturday before Christmas, and I was at King's Cross Station, having ridden the Hogwarts Express back from school with Brooklyn, Rossalene, Millie, Helen, Lanie, and Shawnee. Our compartment had been crowded, but full of laughter and holiday cheer.

My parents squeezed me back. I kissed my mum on the cheek and rumpled my dad's light brown curls. His hand snapped up to his head- he didn't like messy hair- but then he grinned and mussed up my locks, too. The two of us burst into fits of laughter as we tried to tousle the other's hair most. Since he had a good two feet on me, he was winning. I couldn't reach!

Mum rolled her eyes. "I believe I am the only adult in this family." But she cracked a smile, and took my trunk and Peltie's cage as I tried to leap onto Dad's back. "We were going to take the Knight Bus to your grandparents' house, Aly, since it's going to be evening in a couple of hours-"

"Yes, yes!" I shouted, abandoning my pursuit of messing up Dad's hair and bouncing up and down excitedly.

"-but we decided Floo powder would be our best method of transportation," Mum finished.

Dad flicked a stray curl behind my ear as I slumped in disappointment. "Cheer up. I know you want to ride the Knight Bus, kid. Maybe someday. It's a bit of a bumpy ride."

"I know," I grumped.

My parents had rented a Ministry car to get to and from King's Cross, and it was in the backseat of that small green car that I sat and told tales of Hogwarts in all the way back to Rowena's Borough.

Mum spent a few minutes once we arrived home helping me repack my trunk with all of the things I'd need for a Christmas at my grandparents' manor. Dad took care of Peltie, Addison, and Geoffrey- all of whom would be coming with us, of course. A holiday for me meant even more work for Mum and Dad… yuck… and of course Peltie went with me wherever I traveled.

I'd only ever traveled my Floo powder once or twice, I realized as I made a beeline for the fireplace, trunk in hand. The first time, I'd wanted to go to Brooklyn's house- I'd been lonely, and home alone, and young- but somehow, instead of the ancient home that had been the Vawdreys' since before Mr. Vawdrey's grandfather was even born, I ended up just down the street at Millie's. I wasn't excited to try the unpleasant, whirling way of traveling again, but I was dying to spend Christmas with Mum's side of the family. The Vawdreys would be there, and my grandparents Black, and my other aunt and uncle (Mum's little brother and his wife). I hadn't seen Uncle Reggie (short for Regulus) or Aunt Lucy for two years.

My parents followed me, Dad carrying the owls and Mum carrying the trunk they shared. Dad went to the window, opened it, and let the three owls free. "They can fly there, and it's dangerous to take them through the Floo network," he explained to me. My pretty tawny owl hooted and led her two adopted brothers out of the window and into the chilly evening air.

Mum took a pinch of green powder from the glass tumbler atop the mantle of the fireplace. Dad closed the window and we turned around just in time to see Mum throw the powder into the flickering flames. She stepped into the fire, a wisp of black hair coming out of her updo, and shouted, "Mother and Father's manor!" She disappeared in a flash of green light, and just like that the fire was back to normal.

"You next, Aly," Dad said, holding out the tumbler to me. I took Peltie's empty cage from him and scooped out a pinch of the emerald dust. Flinging it into the fire, I watched green envelop the flames. I stepped into them and felt the very faint warmth bathe my skin.

Opening my mouth, I took a small involuntary breath and coughed from the thick greenish-grey smoke. Still, I managed to choke out, "Grandfather Black's house."

All of a sudden, my living room vanished. I kept a tight hold on my trunk and Peltie's cage, and kept coughing as darkness, green light and an acrid, burnt smell whirled around me. Suddenly I was sprawled in a heap on a dark carpet embroidered with maroon and gold appliqués and ringed in gold tassels.

I stood. I was in an office, and someone was sitting regally in a straight-backed wooden chair behind the ornately carved desk. He had dark eyes and was balding, and he was my grandfather, Caelum Black.

"Grandfather!" I cried. My cough hadn't taken me to the wrong place after all. I was in Grandfather Black's home office, a place I barely remembered.

"Alyssa." He stood, the barest hint of a smile brushing across his gruff face. "We were expecting you downstairs. From what I hear, Hesper arrived just a minute ago. I had some work to finish up before you arrived, but it has since been completed. Let me take your trunk."

I handed it over. "Are the Vawdreys and Uncle Reggie here yet?"

"Regulus and Lucille arrived early this morning," Grandfather answered as he opened the heavy door to his office for me. I stepped out into the second-floor hallway, a place I _did_ remember, with its black carpet and dark maroon walls and portraits of deceased family members staggered down the corridor.

"You'll be staying in the third-floor guest bedroom," Grandfather said, stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door to his personal office behind him. "Is it all right if you share with Brooklyn? Your grandmother assumed it would be."

"That's fine," I replied cheerily. "Thank you, Grandfather."

"I am going to put your trunk in your room," he said, relieving me of Peltie's cage, "and this as well. Perhaps you should go downstairs and say hello to your grandmother."

I skipped off down the hall, sliding down the carved wooden bannister of the stairs (a skill I had perfected a few summers ago when I'd been made to stay here for the entire summer with Libby, Brooklyn and my grandparents). Everything in Grandfather and Grandmother Black's house was grandiose and expensive. Even Grandfather had that regal, poised air that came with being raised a Black. My mother, Aunt Cassie, and Uncle Reggie had it, too, but not as bad. This was because Grandmother was short and plump and cheerful- and a Ravenclaw, unlike Grandfather, who had been a Slytherin during his time at Hogwarts (no surprise there).

When I walked into the imposing family room, Grandmother was the first to spot me. "Alyssa!" she exclaimed, rushing over to envelop me in a warm hug. "My, but you've gotten so big! You're taller than me now, child. What are they feeding you at Hogwarts? No meat, I hope?" She gave me a huge wink. Grandmother was a vegetarian too. She had been the one to persuade me to give up meat two years before.

Mum looked at me. "Aly, what fireplace did you come out of? Certainly not this one." She gestured to the carved stone of the main fireplace.

"Grandfather's office fireplace," I replied.

"Hey, hey, hey," interrupted a lilting voice. "Hugs for your grandmum but not your auntie and uncle? Come on now, Aly sweetie!"

I turned and gave a bear hug to my Aunt Lucy. She had bright, shimmery blonde hair, a pale complexion, and the sweetest smile to ever grace the face of a witch on Earth. Aunt Lucy had been the beauty of her year when she was a Hufflepuff at Hogwarts ten years before, but she was still sharp as a whip and absolutely brilliant. Then I hugged her husband, Uncle Reggie, who was standing next to her. Aunt Lucy was tall, but Uncle Reggie was taller. He had the regal Black features, the straight back, the grand air- but he had a warm smile and dark, floppy hair that fell over his light brown eyes. A Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff. They really made a lovely pair.

Just as I pulled away from Uncle Reggie's embrace, the fire in the fireplace flashed bright and green and Dad stepped from it. He hugged his in-laws, Addison and Geoffrey's cages tucked under his arm.

"When will Brooklyn, Libby, Aunt Cassie and Uncle Karan be here?" I asked Grandmother.

"Sometime before dinner," she replied with a shrug, looping her arm through mine. I really _had_ grown taller than her- I could now see over the top of her curly greying head. "Now, Alyssa child, come cook with me. I have a cake that needs mixing, cookies that need scooping, and an entire tart to make. You too, Regulus. You don't get to just leave your mixed salad scattered around the kitchen!"

Laughing good-naturedly, the three of us wandered into the kitchen. Uncle Reggie went back to chopping vegetables, and Grandmother and I beat the dough for a vegetable-and-goat-cheese tart, talking all about my time at Hogwarts and her time away from it.

The Vawdreys arrived that night, just before Grandmother and I pulled the leek-potato-carrot-cheese tart from the oven. I heard shouts from the family room as we laid the steaming tart on the counter, and we poked our heads into the next room to see what had happened. Mum, Dad, Grandfather, and Aunt Lucy had all claimed armchairs in the family room- I know Mum would have helped cook, but the kitchen was already crowded enough what with Uncle Reggie trying to do juggling tricks with chunks of chopped zucchini. Aunt Lucy got up from my favorite armchair- it was soft, fluffy, worn, near the fireplace, and made of the prettiest midnight blue velvet- and cut off the conversation as the flames in the fireplace greened and Uncle Karan stepped out of it.

The talk of my wand and my Hogwarts house- Mum and Dad had been bragging, and the other two asking questions- died off immediately.

My mum's twin's husband was dusting ash off of his dark green robes when Brooklyn appeared. Then Libby flashed in as I hugged my best friend like I hadn't seen her in ages instead of a few hours, and finally Aunt Cassie, too. When greetings had been exchanged and hugs given, Grandmother planted her hands on her hips like the force to be reckoned with she was. "I have a tart cooling in the kitchen, and I'm sure everyone else is hungry too. Therefore, it's dinner time!"

"Excellent, Mum," Uncle Reggie agreed, leaning out of the kitchen with a chunk of raw carrot in his hair.

"I'll set the table," Brooklyn and Libby volunteered at the same time.

"No, I'll do it, girls," Uncle Karan said. He whipped out his wand- eleven inches with a dragon heartstring core, even though he wasn't a Black- and waved it. Immediately there were loud clangs from the kitchen and dining room as plates, silverware, and glasses burst from their drawers and cabinets and set themselves on the dining table.

As Brooklyn's father did the napkins, Uncle Reggie glowered jokingly at his brother-in-law. "You almost killed me with a serving fork!"

Grandmother let me carry out the tart from the kitchen. As everyone oohed and aahed over the perfectly golden-brown crust (one side had been scorched a bit because I hadn't been paying close attention to it in the oven- luckily Grandmother had an acute sense of smell- but we'd cut away the burnt bit so you couldn't even tell it had ever charred), Grandmother levitated out bowls of steaming asparagus and roped Libby and Brooklyn into carrying out platters of fresh rolls, tins of butter, and Uncle Reggie's chopped salad. Grandfather brought out a bottle that was labeled _Wilbur Walmsley's Wonderful Wizarding Wines, 2000_ and poured the adults their wine as Aunt Lucy fetched water for the three of us witches who weren't of age yet. Finally everyone was in their seats, and Dad (who was closest to the tart) cut it into twelve good-sized pieces. There were only eleven of us, but extra food always came in handy for nice midnight snacks. He served us each a piece as Grandfather and Grandmother passed around the asparagus. Brooklyn beside me handed me a roll that she had already buttered, and Uncle Reggie proudly served me some of his salad. Finally, we were ready to eat. Grandfather said a few words asking Salazar Slytherin and the Black ancestors to bless the food- some odd religious mumbo-jumbo that no one else was into- and we dug in.

"So, Aly, Brooklyn, tell me your wands again," Aunt Lucy requested after swallowing her first bite of tart. "This is delicious, by the way, Aly, Darcy."

"Mine's twelve and a half inches long, ebony wood, dragon heartstring core, and reasonably supple," Brooklyn rattled off promptly, drawing her wand from the inside pocket of her robes as if she'd been waiting for this question. The handle was carved to look like a stack of marbles, and the beautifully polished dark wood glinted in the low lamplight of the manor.

"Dragon heartstring, like a proud Black woman," Aunt Cassie said in a slightly pompous tone.

Aunt Lucy turned her bright blue eyes on me. "And you, Aly? Your mum couldn't remember the exact specifications of your wand. Something about cedar wood, I believe?"

Luckily, _I_ remembered. Gulping, I in turn pulled my own wand out. "Fourteen and a half inches long, cedar wood with unicorn tail hair core, skinny but hard and durable." I was parroting Gabrielle O'Cain's words and I knew it. After all, they were permanently burned into my brain.

" _Fourteen_ inches long?" Uncle Reggie whistled in surprise.

"And a _half_ ," Mum corrected.

"That might be the longest wand I've ever seen," my uncle continued. "What was the record, Father? Fifteen, sixteen-"

"Eighteen inches. Death Eater Lucius Malfoy," Grandfather answered.

"Well, you know what they say," Dad chipped in. "Big wands come with big personalities!"

"So _both_ of our first-year girls have big personalities," Grandmother said proudly.

Grandfather scoffed and boomed, "I need no wand to tell me _that!_ "

Aunt Cassie leaned forward and asked the question I'd been dreading the most. "Did you say unicorn tail hair core, Aly? Why not dragon heartstring?"

Mum sighed and rolled her eyes. She'd obviously been also dreading the question. "We tried almost every dragon heartstring wand that Miss O'Cain had there before that woman insisted on trying something else. This was the first wand we tried with a different core."

"You do take after your father," Aunt Cassie said with an almost disapproving smirk.

An awkward silence stretched across the room, until Uncle Reggie- no doubt trying to stop the discomfort- swallowed a bite of food. He leaned forward slightly and said, very loudly, "This is quite good, Mum. You too, Aly. I love potatoes and goat cheese together."

I beamed. Grandmother had made most of the tart, sure, but I'd helped an awful lot, and it had been my suggestion to include potatoes instead of just leeks and carrots.

"Thank you, Regulus," Grandmother said, patting her son on the arm.

At that moment, people began to break into smaller conversational groups. Grandfather, Dad, and Uncle Karan all began to talk about their work (they were all employees of the Ministry of Magic- Dad at the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Uncle Karan at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Grandfather heading the Department of International Magical Cooperation). Aunt Lucy asked Libby what she was hoping for during her fast-approaching Hogwarts years, and Brooklyn's nine-year-old redheaded sister launched into a talkative spiel about how she was hoping for Slytherin but if not Slytherin Ravenclaw like her grandmother and how she couldn't wait to get her wand and schoolbooks and make new friends, etc., etc. Aunt Cassie and Mum, the twins, chatted about Mum's latest article- a front-page story about a coven of witches in Dublin who had nearly broken the International Statute of Secrecy by performing healing spells on a Muggle who was deathly ill with some kind of pox. Grandmother kept talking to Uncle Reggie about the food. This left Brooklyn and me to strike up a discussion.

"I've been telling Mother and Father all about what's been happening at Hogwarts," my oldest cousin said in a low voice. "They say none of it is normal, not at all. My Uncle Hugo- Father's older brother- his wife's little sister works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and she says she's never heard of any thestrals being so nice, let alone eating vegetables. She claims she wrote an essay in her seventh year at Hogwarts that explained why carnivorous animals can't eat vegetables for long without their digestive systems rebelling. She's petitioning for a committee to go to the school before New Year's and look at the horses." She lowered her voice further. "Apparently they might have to be slaughtered if something is found to be wrong."

"Dad's friends in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures said the exact same thing," I whispered back. "Only this is the first I'm hearing about any paper or petition."

"You wouldn't have," she replied quietly with a toss of her long dark hair. "Father says they just wrote it up yesterday, and it's being kept top secret. Already it's got three hundred names. Just seven hundred more until the committee's put together. I would sign it if I were of age. I love Tanith and all, but something's just off about her."

"I agree. Rowen- it's fun having him 'round, but something's not right."

"And the staircases," Brooklyn exclaimed. She re-lowered her voice, although why we were whispering I didn't know. It seemed wrong to discuss what was going on at Hogwarts so loudly in front of our family, so maybe that was it. Or perhaps she didn't want to scare our parents into making us switch schools. "Did you tell your parents about them? About the paper cuts? Or the boneless foot?"

"The paper cuts, not the boneless foot," I murmured. A Gryffindor sixth-year had been sprinting up a staircase leading to the fourth floor when it had disappeared- him along with it, according to his classmates. Conor Mathieson had been there when the boy was found on the first floor right outside the Great Hall before lunch, and he'd spent most of Charms class that afternoon talking about how the bones in the boy's left foot- the one that had been touching the staircase when it vanished, if witnesses were to be believed- had just up and vanished. "It only happened last week."

"True," Brooklyn allowed, shaking her head in wonder. "I'm starting to get worried. Hogwarts- well, it just seems so different from the school of our parents' tales, and not really in a good way."

I shrugged. "It's been thirty years since they graduated!"

"Twenty-five," Brooklyn corrected. "Remember, they graduated in-"

"Two thousand and sixteen. I _know_ ," I huffed. "As I was saying, a lot can change in _twenty-five_ years. I'm sure it's nothing."

Brooklyn nodded slowly, but she didn't look convinced.

Later that night, Grandfather brought out the freshly cut Christmas tree for us to decorate. Libby, as the youngest, got to put the star- a bright yellow thing that glowed like it was charmed, which it probably was- on the tippy top. Brooklyn and I claimed all of our special ornaments. Everyone got to put on their own- mine consisted of a collection of fourteen ornaments. The first was two small panes of glass sealed together with a Permanent Sticking Charm, with a curly, wispy lock of my baby hair stuck between them. I also had a small broomstick-shaped child's toy that was bright green (the first bit of "kiddy magic" I had ever performed was making it turn from brown and golden to pink to blue to its current shade of lime), and the first of my baby teeth to fall out, forever sealed inside a small globe of glass. Then there were the photos. Eleven tiny moving pictures of me were trapped in small frames. There was one from each of my birthdays except for the actual day I was born, back in 2029. In my first picture, I was bawling. In my second, I was asleep. In my third- running around. In my fourth- waving. My fifth I was laughing, my sixth changing toys different colors… all the way up to the most recent, my eleventh from earlier that year. Short, curly brown hair, sparkling jade green eyes, freckles galore- I stared at the photo of me grinning wildly as my hair whipped around my face. It had only been taken seven months before. _Only seven months and so much has changed! I'm a Hogwarts student now, a Ravenclaw- I've got new friends, I've learned new things-_

Brooklyn gave me a friendly nudge with her own eleventh-birthday photo. Unlike me, she had twelve photos, since her birthday was December seventeenth so she had already turned 12. "Stop staring at your picture and put it on the tree before everyone takes all the good spots!"

Grandmother, Uncle Karan, Aunt Lucy, and Dad- everyone who had married into the Black family- didn't have personal ornaments. They hung up the boring things like shiny red glass globes with the words of the Black family motto scrawled across them in Grandfather's beautiful calligraphy: _Toujours pur_ ("Always pure"). Before the time of The Boy Who Lived, it had meant pure _blood_. But now it meant something else. Always pure- always kind- always _good_.

Grandmother brought out a platter of cookies as the decorating began to wrap up. I took a chocolate chip one (okay, two) and scrutinized my family.

Everyone else had personal ornaments. My grandfather, Mum, Aunt Cassie, and Uncle Reggie each had twenty- 17 pictures (from age one to the day they turned of age), the first thing they had ever used magic on, a lock of their baby hair, and their first lost tooth. There were also five extra personal ornaments- a baby tooth, a lock of hair, and three pictures. They were of Mum and Aunt Cassie's first younger brother, Pollux Black II. He had died of dragon pox a week after his third birthday. Six year later, in 2013, Uncle Reggie had been born.

Uncle Pollux's ornaments were always the last on the tree. After every other ornament and light had been strung onto the huge pine, Grandmother hung his hair, Grandfather his tooth, and his three siblings his pictures.

Libby yawned the second Uncle Reggie put Pollux's last photo on the tree. Immediately, Aunt Cassie's dark gaze locked onto her. "Bed. You too, Brooklyn, Alyssa."

"We're two years older!" I complained.

"Yeah, we should get to stay up!" Brooklyn agreed.

"We'd be fools if we thought you wouldn't stay up anyway," Uncle Reggie told us, mussing her hair. Brooklyn squealed and slapped his hand away- with her longer locks, she was much more subject to difficult tangles. "Up to bed with you both. You'd talk to each other down here; we all know you'll talk to each other up there until you fall asleep. Best start sleeping in bed, not down here."

"No fair," Libby whined as Mum and Aunt Cassie shepherded us up two flights of stairs.

"Good night, dear," Aunt Cassie replied as she herded Libby into her room across the hall and shut the door.

"Good night, Aly, Brooklyn," Mum murmured as we entered ours.

"Good night," we chorused.

"'Night, Aunt Cassie," I called across to her.

"Good night, Mother!" Brooklyn echoed.

Grabbing my pajamas, I changed in the adjoining bathroom. When I came out- teeth brushed and all- Brooklyn was also in her pajamas (dark green silk with golden trim), leaning against the wall with her arms folded brusquely. "Took you long enough," she grumbled, hustling past me.

When she came out ten minutes later, I replied from my spot on the bed, "You're one to talk."

Contrary to Uncle Reggie's belief, we didn't talk. Instead, Brooklyn turned the radio on very low and put it next to her bedside so only she could really hear the oldies singers like Celestina Warbeck croon their tunes. I pulled a book from my trunk and nestled underneath the covers with a flashlight that I'd specifically packed for this very reason. The book- _The Tales of Beetle the Bard_ by, you guessed it, Beetle the Bard- was full of children's tales, but no matter how old I got I would never outgrow _Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump_ or _The Warlock's Hairy Heart_. My mum hated that I liked the latter story, as it was full of blood and gore, but I loved the idea of a warlock driven mad by love.

I had just turned the first page of _The Fountain of Fair Fortune_ \- also an excellent story- when my eyelids drooped and I slowly fell asleep to Celestina Warbeck singing faintly of a cauldron full of hot, strong love.

 **The first chapter of 2k17... one day late. Took me a bit to type up, as it's a fairly long chapter! I think we'll have one more with the Black family, and then it's back on to Hogwarts, where strange things are afoot...**

 **Please don't forget to** ** _review!_**

 **~atrfla**


	11. Chapter 11: How To Make A Snowball

**My schedule's gone to pieces, hasn't it? Well, competition season is starting for me, so most Saturdays I'll be pretty busy. I might even have to move post date to Sundays. We'll see, shan't we?**

"About time you woke up," Brooklyn drawled when I stirred. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was or why I was in the same room as my cousin, but then she added, "Libby's been dying to open her presents, but Grandfather said you and Grandmother needed your sleep."

In a flash I remembered. It was Christmas morning, two days and three nights since we'd arrived at the Black family mansion, and there were multitudes of gifts downstairs under the tree!

I scrambled from bed hastily, flicking away a stray sausage-curl of hair. Brooklyn gave me a lazy smile. "Yeah, I thought you'd be excited."

We ran downstairs. Everyone was gathered 'round the Christmas tree, sipping steaming stuff from mugs and snacking from plates of pastries that Aunt Cassie and Libby had made the night before. (Brooklyn had tried to help, but she was hopeless at cooking.)

"Perfect timing!" Aunt Lucy exclaimed, a wet hot cocoa mustache on her pale upper lip.

"Mum just woke up, too," chimed in Uncle Reggie, gesturing to Grandmother, who was rubbing crust from her eyes.

" _Yes!_ " Libby hissed under her breath upon seeing me. "Can we?" -louder.

Aunt Cassie sighed, and took a cheese pastry. " _Fine_ ," she agreed. "Girls, will you hand out the presents?"

We sprang into action, all thoughts of sleep or food and drink gone from my mind. I spotted a present marked _Regulus_ wrapped in shimmery white paper beside me, and passed it to Uncle Reggie; Brooklyn took the one closest to her, which was apparently marked _Caelum_ , because she handed it off to Grandfather; Libby wiggled under the tree and came up with a big squishy gift in a red velvet bag, which she placed at Mum's feet. Soon all the presents had been distributed, and we each took one from our miniature piles and ripped them open.

Grandfather asked the traditional show-and-tell question as we swept the multicolored wrapping paper into one big trash pile in the center of the circle: "What have you all received?"

We went clockwise from him around the circle. At the Black house, it was a tradition to show off your gifts and thank whoever gave them to you. Grandmother went first, and held up a pair of shining silver sticks. "Two new knitting needles from Regulus!"

I smiled, a silent victory cheer. There wasn't much to do around the Black manor, so Grandmother had been teaching me to knit over the past few days. She'd tried to teach Brooklyn, too, but my eldest cousin had bored easily and gone to play Quidditch outside with my father, Uncle Reggie, Aunt Lucy, Libby, and Uncle Karan. (Grandfather refereed.) Unfortunately she only had one pair of knitting needles, meaning we had to switch off turns at using them. I wasn't bad at knitting, and now I could use her old pair to practice whenever I had free time.

"Chocolate Frogs from Brooklyn," Uncle Reggie continued thickly, holding up a Chocolate Frog with its foot bitten off and smiling to reveal large white teeth stained brown with chocolate.

"A bracelet from Regulus," Aunt Lucy said, admiring the shining new golden accessory that was now clipped around her slender wrist.

"A knitted scarf from Grandmother!" Libby grinned, showing off her new black scarf complete with greenish-blue tassels.

Brooklyn held the quill I'd gotten her to the sky, and the ink too. "A quill and ink from Aly! Is it Self-Spelling, too?"

I nodded, then picked up my Broomstick Servicing Kit for all to see. "A Broomstick Servicing Kit from Dad! Thank you."

Mum next to me continued the spiel by lifting a blue knit pouch. "A bag? From Mother? What's this for, Mother?"

Grandmother smiled. "To carry your scrolls of parchment while you're out interviewing for the _Prophet_ , of course."

Mum's face brightened as she understood. "It's beautiful. I've needed something like this for a while. How thoughtful, Mother. Thank you."

Dad picked up the chain again. " _A Walk Through the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes_ , by Parkins Pittiman, from Hesper. I hear there's an interview from my boss in here- he's _that_ old!"

"Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder from Cassie. Thank you, dear."

"And a beautiful new pair of purple robes from Karan."

Libby, Brooklyn, and I barely waited for Aunt Cassie to finish the word _Karan_ ; we scrambled for our next presents.

After opening all of the gifts- not including ones from Dad's side of the family, as those were waiting at home for just Mum, Dad, and me- I lugged my stash back to the room Brooklyn and I shared. From a blue-and-bronze scarf (Grandmother) to a silver charm bracelet with a shimmering _A_ charm and a glittering eagle one (Mum) to a lovely box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, featuring flavors like Eggnog, Spearmint and Pine Tree (Uncle Reggie), I was quite pleased with my haul.

I didn't have time to look more closely at any of this year's gifts, though. Brooklyn and I had barely dumped everything on our separate beds when Libby barged in, face flushed, grinning. "It's been snowing outside!" she squealed. "Mum and Aunt Hesper say we can all go outside if we hurry!" Then she charged right out.

The window was on Brooklyn's side of the room, and she drew back the dark, heavy drapes to reveal a world of glittering white. I crossed to look and took the curtains from her, a grin spreading across my face. Sunbeams danced about, catching the whirling snowflakes as they fell to the ground. It wasn't snowing too hard, but there was a fair amount of the cold white stuff on the ground and on the trees behind the house- at least, from what I could tell from the third floor.

I heard a rustle of cloth and turned, spotting Brooklyn pulling warm clothes and a coat from her trunk. She flashed me a smirk. "I call the loo first!" Dashing past me, she entered the bathroom and slammed the door with a resounding _crash_.

When I was all ready- my hair tucked up into a warm grey knit cap that Grandmother had made for me _last_ Christmas, my hands safe inside warm chameleon-skin gloves, and my new Ravenclaw scarf wrapped securely around my neck, etc.- Brooklyn and I tromped downstairs in our snow boots, meeting up with a similarly bundled-up Libby in the kitchen. Mum made us take off our gloves to eat a quick breakfast of eggs and toast- "You can't go out there with just pastries and pumpkin juice in your belly," she protested- but as soon as all three of us girls finished our breakfast she released us to play in the snow. Since we were still kids, she made Uncle Reggie, Aunt Lucy, and Dad join us too, all without wands so we didn't 'get hurt'. (They didn't complain.)

The sprawling front lawn was completely covered in glistening snow that crunched beneath my feet. Giddily I reached down and packed a snowball with gloved hands. It was misshapen and a little on the small side, but it worked just fine for throwing at Brooklyn. I'd meant to hit the small of her back, but my aim was off. It still hit her squarely in the middle of the upper arm as she trudged away from me.

She whirled around with wonderful agility, a mischievous grin on her face. "You'll pay for that, Salinger!"

All of a sudden I found myself in the middle of a three-way snowball fight- Uncle Reggie and Brooklyn, versus Aunt Lucy and Libby, versus Dad and me. I sprinted over to my father, nearly skidding on the slippery snow. He was packing snow into slightly distorted bricks. "Help me build a fort!" he ordered without looking up. Since everyone else was building their own forts, I figured I would, too. Now was not the time to launch an attack, despite their vulnerability! I lifted one of Dad's bricks onto a base he'd already made and packed it down with loose ice.

We were almost done with our wraparound fort, which was nearly half as tall as me, when a barrage of snowballs arched over the wall and splatted between me and Dad. A few remained intact because they landed on top of their exploded comrades, so I scooped them up, stood, and flung them at an also-standing Brooklyn.

A snowball from Libby caught me square on the side of my neck, and I fell back, stunned. Dad crouched over me. "Are you all right?"

I nodded, scraping snow off the ground. "Here." I offered him a lump of snow that maybe could've passed for a decent snowball. "You throw."

He looked at me like I'd sprouted tentacles, shook his head, and sighed loudly over the wind. "Remind me to teach you how to make a proper snowball after this! I'll pack, you throw."

My aim was decent and Dad was an excellent snowball packer. For a while I felt like we were winning, and then Brooklyn waved to get my attention while Aunt Lucy and Libby were hiding behind their wall, having been bombarded with snowballs from the both of us.

 _What?_ I mouthed, sending a snowball from Dad her way.

She ducked behind her three-sided fort, reappeared, and pointed at the wall that Aunt Lucy and Libby had built in lieu of a fort. She pointed from me to her a few times, then pointed again at the wall. Then she pantomimed ripping it down, clawing at the air with white-gloved fingers.

I nodded. Brooklyn and I would team up to take down Aunt Lucy and Libby, then we would turn back against each other. I crouched behind the fort. "I'm going to go take down Libby's fort!" I yelled to my dad over the wind.

He grinned proudly. "I would camouflage you, but I left my wand inside! I'll pack tome snow on your back so you're not this black beacon in a sea of white, sound good?" He did so, and I felt the weight take form on my back.

Creeping out the back of our semicircular fort through an opening we'd left, I broke into a crouching run against the wind. I was heading for the tall snow wall that Aunt Lucy had constructed with Libby's help. Brooklyn was surely watching my back, making sure to assault the girls with snowballs so they wouldn't peek out and see me.

Crouching at the base of their wall, I huddled against it to block the fickle wind. I scooped handfuls of snow from the base of the wall, making it so thin as to fall over if shoved properly. It took a while, but finally I was done. (It was a very well-made wall.) I got ready to run, then realized something odd. The snowball offensive from Uncle Reggie and Brooklyn's fort had slowed considerably. When I glanced over to Brooklyn and Uncle Reggie's snow fort, I spotted Uncle Reggie duck back down behind the foremost wall.

 _Where's Brooklyn?_

My answer came to me in a matter of moments. A flash of dark green in the snow caught my gaze out of the corner of my eye. It was heading for _my_ fort. _That backstabbing Slytherin!_ I ground my teeth. She was going to destroy _my_ fort after tricking me into doing her dirty work for me! It was a brilliant plan, and I was furious that I hadn't thought of doing it myself.

With a mighty shove, I forced the wall to topple over onto Aunt Lucy and Libby. I faintly heard their raucous laughter and yelps of shock as I ran full speed for my fort, not even bothering to crouch.

Brooklyn saw me coming and laughed almost maniacally- at least I assumed she did; I couldn't hear very well over the whistling wind that had come on in full force. My dark-haired best friend punched a few holes in my fort, subtlety be damned, and shoved it over onto Dad in once fierce movement.

Uncle Reggie stood up and shouted, "Did we win?"

"We won!" Brooklyn screamed back, laughing. She failed to notice me still charging toward her. I tackled her and we fell to the ground, tussling and shoving snow in each other's faces and down each other's coats.

I was cold and covered in snow when we finished, but I didn't go inside with Libby, Aunt Lucy, Uncle Reggie, and Brooklyn. Instead, Dad and I stayed outdoors in the freezing wind.

"First you scoop up a good amount of snow, like this," Dad instructed, scraping two big handfuls of snow up into his cupped hands. He had _way_ bigger palms than me, longer fingers too, so his 'good amount of snow' was almost double mine.

"Like this?" I asked, offering him my pitiful snow pile.

"No, no, more," he insisted, piling more snow into my hands. I felt like he was building a snowman, there was so much of the fluffy white stuff! "Now squeeze it really tightly in your hands."

I frowned. "I can't do that without moving my hands and then all the snow will fall off!"

"Move your hands around it, and squeeze it," he rephrased, doing just that with his own snowball-in-the-making. "Squeeze it very tightly- yes, like that- and form it into a ball while you're doing so."

I followed his instructions, and produced a very small, sort of round snowball.

"Exactly!" he praised, reaching over and patting me on the shoulder. "Now add some more snow and shape again to make it bigger."

Over the next few days, I used my newfound knowledge of packing snow. On Wednesday, the day after Christmas, Brooklyn, Libby, and I all made snowmen. I created a snow-Brooklyn, Brooklyn made a snow-Libby, and Libby herself made a snow-me! I nearly burst out laughing when I saw Snow Aly. She was wearing a witch's hat and a Ravenclaw scarf. A stick was carefully balanced upon her branchy hand to represent a wand, and two pebbles that were overgrown with moss (so as to look green) were stuck into her face. On Thursday, I buried Libby in a pile of snow so only her face stuck out. On Friday, Brooklyn's and my last day at Black Manor, we had a rematch of the snowball fight. This time it was Brooklyn and me v. Libby and Uncle Reggie (and we won, completely decimating my uncle and cousin's fort).

And then it was the morning of Saturday the 29th, and it was time to leave. Brooklyn and I said our good-byes. Mum and Dad promised to send all of my Salinger-side Christmas presents by owl (Geoffrey and Addison squawked indignantly at the thought). Aunt Lucy hugged me too hard and Uncle Reggie threatened to use magic in the next snowball fight so as to beat us. Grandmother gifted me her old pair of knitting needles even though it was past Christmas, and Grandfather even cracked a genuine smile when all three of us cousins tackled him in a tight embrace. Finally it was time to go.

Brooklyn went first, throwing a pinch of green powder into the roaring living-room fire and stepping into it. "Hogwarts!" she shouted, and then she was gone.

"Good-bye, my dear," Grandmother whispered into my ear as I took a pinch of Floo powder and she hugged me again. "I'll see you soon."

Then I loosed the Floo powder into the fire. It flared up emerald green and I moved into the swirling jade flames. They were reflected into my family's eyes as I gazed back at them, so everyone's irises looked as green as mine. Gripping my trunk tightly, I waved, and then yelled "Hogwarts!"

The room, and my family with it, melted away.

I tumbled out onto yet another rug, getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Brooklyn was there too, trunk in hand, and Professor Brocklehurst. They helped me up. Professor Brocklehurst, the Charms professor, was a grandmotherly-type woman with greying brownish-gold hair, and she picked up my dropped trunk for me.

"Try not to get too much ash on the carpet, Miss Salinger," she said kindly. "It's been repelling any cleaning charms lately. No one knows why."

I stood up, brushing ash from my arms back into the fireplace. "Of course." Then Brooklyn grabbed my wrist, I took my trunk, and we fled Professor Brocklehurst's office, heading for the separate common rooms that we had both so dearly missed.

 **All right, all right, all right, all right! What did you think? This was the first of the** ** _Salinger Year_** **series that had a two-part Christmas chapter instead of just one really long one, so did you like that or would you prefer** ** _Second Year_** **'s Christmas chapter to be just one part? Let me know your thoughts, wishes, and wants in the review box below!**

 **~atrfla**


	12. Chapter 12: Problems with Peeves

**Yikes! Short chapter today- but, well, it's still packed with important events. Chapter Thirteen will be longer, I promise, and on TIME instead of early or late. (Competition season starts tomorrow, so- I figured I'd get this one typed up and uploaded before tomorrow!) Enjoy!**

I tripped, sprawling on my face, the books in my arms falling everywhere on the floor. My face and arms smarting, I slowly got to my feet. I'd been running with my friends to Defense Against the Dark Arts because Herbology had run sort of long. Some Spiky Bushes had gotten out of control, but luckily now all of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs knew how to deal with them quite well. It would be a while before any of us forgot!

My friends gathered around me, clucking like hens and helping to dust me off as I got up.

"Are you all right?" Lanie asked worriedly.

"That wa' quite a fall," Lyndsay agreed.

Shawnee didn't say anything. She was staring at the wall, off in one of her abysses of thought again. She often slipped into these strange thoughtful half-comatose states, as we'd quickly learned after meeting her. That was okay- it was just one of the quirks of being Shawnee. We as her roommates had noticed, though, that she could be scared out of them. It was quite handy to know for when she half-dozed off in class.

"Your books," Lanie said, crouching and picking _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore up. She reached for a second- _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One_ by the ever-so-famous Charms witch Miranda Goshawk- but before her fingers even brushed the spine, the book rose into the air strangely and hovered there.

We all froze. I glanced behind us, but we were the only four in the corridor- not odd, since the time for the next class to start was fast approaching.

"Who's there?" Lyndsay challenged broadly, taking a step toward the floating book.

There was a small pop, and suddenly a small flying man with wide orange-and-black eyes and a creepily huge smile appeared. His hand was wrapped around the book, and when he tilted his head at us his bell-covered hat jingled merrily. He wasn't a ghost, since he wasn't transparent- no, we'd heard about this Hogwarts menace, and his name was-

" _Peeves_ ," Lyndsay hissed.

At the poltergeist's appearance, Shawnee snapped from her reverie. She stepped forward too, hands out and ready. I knew she knew some form of Muggle martial arts, and she looked ready to use them.

"Give me my book back," I demanded, sticking out my left hand and grabbing my wand in the pocket of my robes with the other in case I had to hex him. I briefly wondered what hexes worked on a poltergeist. My dad had regaled me of tales of Peeves- had he ever mentioned cursing him?

"Of course, m'lady," he replied, adjusting his bright green bow tie with his free hand.

"That book's not yours, it's-" The full meaning of his words hit me. "Wait. What?"

"I said of course," Peeves replied in a well-mannered fashion, his smile becoming less creepy and more genuine by the second. "Let me pick up the rest for you." He disappeared in a fast-moving blur, collecting all of my many scattered books and even plucking the one Lanie was holding from her hand. He transferred the six tomes into my arms, neatly arranged and even alphabetized from left to right. He tipped his loud hat at us and said, "Good day, madams!" Then the poltergeist zoomed away down the corridor in a blur of clashing colors.

We stared open-mouthed after him, thoroughly shell-shocked.

" _What_ ," Lyndsay breathed, "was _that?_ "

"I've never heard of Peeves being _nice_ ," Lanie whispered in shock.

"Maybe Nearly Headless Nick and Peeves switched personalities," I suggested.

Shawnee shook her head, completely awake now. "Can't be. Nearly Headless Nick isn't _that_ nice."

"Tha' was _so_ odd," Lyndsay murmured.

"Well," Lanie announced, shaking her head to clear it, "I for one am glad. We need a gentlemanly ghost around here. A _helpful_ one."

"But _Peeves?_ " Lyndsay argued. "Mah brother complains abou' 'im all th' time. Ah think this is jus' a joke 'e's playin'."

By dinnertime, it seemed that the news of Peeves' changed behavior had spread throughout the entire school, all seven years. Half of the people I heard talking about it seemed to share Lanie's opinion, while the other half agreed more with Lyndsay. Halfway through a dinner of piping hot white bean and cabbage soup served with roasted vegetables and freshly baked whole grain rolls, Peeves- wearing a _top hat_ of all things- swooped into the Great Hall. The faculty and half of the students cringed, but he didn't do anything rude or disruptive; instead, he zoomed up to the ceiling and simply wiped the hot wax off of the bottom of a candle that was just about to drip onto an unsuspecting student below ( _That's strange- the candles are enchanted to not drip wax, aren't they?_ ). Zipping down to hover in front of Headmistress McGonagall, he swept off his hat and bowed. "M'headmistress. Consider this a formal apology as to my behavior over the past years. I am dearly sorry, madam; do forgive me. I will do much good to be forgiven."

A shocked silence reigned over the Hall. Students and professors alike stared open-mouthed at the poltergeist.

Headmistress McGonagall stood in a flutter of tartan robes. She bowed back, but seemed sort of flustered- a first! "I- er- speak for Hogwarts in this matter. As a school, we accept your apology, but I do believe you ought to be punished for your years of disobedience."

Peeves nodded, almost a tiny bit too eagerly. "Of course, Madam McGonagall."

Professor Damien beside the elderly headmistress stood and whispered in her ear. She shook her head, obviously dismissing whatever idea he'd had. Not to be simply rejected, the raven-haired Astronomy professor murmured again in her ear. This time, Minerva McGonagall nodded.

"Peeves." Her voice was strong now; no hesitation or wariness remained. "I hereby sentence you to two hours of honest community service a day until the end of March. This can include helping students with work, cleaning the castle, or something of that sort. I am sure our caretaker, Argus Filch, will be quite happy to have you helping him. Should I hear of any acting up in the meantime, your sentence will be extended. Do you understand?"

Peeves nodded. "Clear as crystal, ma'am!" He thanked her, then turned around and streaked out, disappearing in a flash of black and orange as fast as he'd come.

After a few moments of silence, Professor Damien said loudly and in a quite unprofessorlike way, "Well, _that_ was interesting." And then he sat down and resumed his meal.

A nervous laugh spread throughout the Hall as we picked up our forks and followed his example.

 **Hmm. I wonder what Peeves could be up to.**

 **If you could leave a review- yes,** ** _you_** **\- it would be greatly appreciated!**

 **Thanks from the wonderful and needy author, ~atrfla**


	13. Chapter 13: Valentine's Day

**Don't forget to review at the end, please!**

"Ugh!" I narrowly stopped myself from throwing my quill across the library with as much force as I could muster. "Why is Herbology so _hard_?"

"Tha's nae the righ' question tae be askin'," Lyndsay argued, glaring down at her own book (a copy of _Extraordinary Trials in History_ by Joachim Abrams). "It ought tae be why History o' Magic is so _borin'_. 'Erbology is easy."

"Easy for you to say," I retorted. "You're good at it!"

"I like History of Magic," Lanie chipped in. "It's interesting."

"Et would be, wi' a proper teacher," Lyndsay grumbled.

"Hey!" I protested. "What about Professor Damien and Professor Fourier? They're _my_ favorites."

"Is there any way I can be of assistance?"

The three of us looked up from our study table, covered in our books and parchment. Peeves, sporting a brown bowler hat and a shining monocle- he seemed to change his outfit somehow into something new and more gentlemanly every day- was hovering above our table.

"A frustrated sigh reached my ears!" Peeves added. "Was it you?" He looked down at Lanie, but she shook her head and gestured to me.

"I don't understand this," I explained, pushing _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ towards him. "Immature Bouncing Bulbs only need a Knockback Jinx to be stopped. _That_ I understand. But it says _here-_ " I pointed to a paragraph halfway down the page- "that mature Bouncing Bulbs shouldn't be handled. Yet _here-_ " I pointed to an earlier paragraph- "Spore states clearly that Bouncing Bulbs can be stopped with a Fire-Making Spell. Why would it need to be stopped if no one handles it in the first place? Providing a spell to stop them is like _asking_ for some troublemaker to try handling a mature one."

"Some occasionally get loose," Peeves replied, adjusting his monocle. "And what if one is encountered in the wild? Wizardkind must know a proper spell to keep them tamed!"

Now that he'd said it, it seemed obvious. "Oh. Thanks. And what about this? Later on in the glossary, she talks about Devil's Snare, but doesn't seem to mention any of its physical properties…"

Fifteen minutes passed, and before I knew it, Peeves had explained all I needed to know, _and_ he'd come up with a nice little jingle to help Lyndsay remember the trial cases of Dermot and Dorothea Dogmersfield, two siblings who had appeared in the wizarding court for two very different offenses (Dermot for dealing with the Dark Lord, Dorothea for doing disgusting experiments with mooncalf dung stolen from her neighbor's domain). It appeared that he could be quite useful when necessary.

"Thanks, Peeves," I said when he was done teaching Lyndsay. "My brain's just scrambled."

I laid my head on the table with a _thunk_ , and Peeves tipped his hat. "It was my pleasure, ladies!" Then he zipped off, prompting a word from the librarian Madam Pince and Peeves considerably slowing down.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to Peeves helping us with homework," Lanie mumbled.

"Or scrubbin' trophies," Lyndsay added.

I moved my head, adjusting my arms so they formed a pillow for my face. When I did so, I unknowingly knocked the parchment I was working on off the table with my elbow, revealing the pink card underneath decorated with cut-out white hearts.

I didn't even realize the card was visible; unfortunately, my friends did. Lanie snatched up the card and read it aloud, prompting my head to shoot up with eyes wide with terror.

 _"_ _Conor: Your hair sparkles gold in the sunlight outside, your eyes are as deep as the ocean. I like you so much that I'm dying inside, but I won't ever slip you love potion._ _From your secret admirer_."

"Oooo _oooooooo_ h!" Lyndsay squealed, rather loudly.

" _Shhh!_ " Peeves hissed in synchronization with Madam Pince from where he was hovering nearby helping a burly sixth-year Slytherin boy with his homework.

"Ye ha' a crush on _Conor?_ " Lyndsay squealed, a bit quieter, grabbing the card from Lanie and reading it over for herself.

"You two would look _adorable_ together!" Lanie voiced. Then she frowned, light eyebrows creasing. "But what about Conor's twin, Jamie? I hear she's _very_ overprotective."

"They're not twins," I corrected her. "Jamie's ten months older than Conor is."

"What?" Lyndsay arched an eyebrow. "Ah didnae' know tha'."

I nodded vigorously, making sure to lower my voice after Peeves shot me another look. "It's true- he told me the very first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"'E _likes_ ye," Lyndsay teased in a soft sing-song.

"Shut up," I hissed, laughing a little at my friends' fun. All of a sudden, I had an idea. "Wait- Lyndsay, could you do me a favor?"

She grinned, a flash of white teeth showing between pink lips. "As long as it does'nae involve History o' Magic!"

I pointed at the card she still held in her broad fingers. "Could you sneak up to the boys' dormitory before bed tonight and put that on Conor's nightstand? That way he won't necessarily see it when he goes to bed tonight, but he probably will when he wakes up tomorrow!"

Lyndsay shrugged. "Ach, sure, ah'll do it. Ought tae be fun!"

I went to bed with a tingly feeling of anticipation lingering in my stomach. It was still there when I woke up the next day, the fourteenth of February, and it stayed with me as I got ready for school with my chatty dorm-mates.

The moment I stepped into the Great Hall, though, the jitters were replaced with a laughing, giddy sensation. There was pink everywhere, streamers and banners and confetti, and even little salmon-robed Cupids carrying bows and arrows with bright red tips shaped like hearts flittering through the air. Professor Damien stood at the main doors to the Hall, a huge grin on his pale face as he threw even more glittery coral confetti into the air. "Happy Valentine's Day!" he cried out merrily. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

Suddenly Brooklyn was at my side in a flash of dark hair and green robes. "Look at the Headmistress," she whispered out of the side of her mouth as we all passed Professor Damien. My cousin tried (and failed) to hide her smirk.

I glanced up at the high table. Headmistress McGonagall was seated in her chair, two fingers massaging the bridge of her nose, watching Cupids fly through the air with mild distaste written across her face.

"I guess we know whose idea this all was," I murmured back with a high-pitched giggle.

We proceeded down the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables (the rest of my friends seemed to have vanished in the crowd and the pink). Just before Brooklyn was going to split away from me to go sit with Leja, we heard a high-pitched squeal and a few curse words from our right. Turning in that direction, we spotted a Cupid fluttering around the head of a very annoyed-looking sixth-year Ravenclaw girl with a lumpy nose and frizzy dark hair. She tried to bat the small, fat angel- _No, wait, is that a dwarf with a bow and arrow?_ \- away, glaring hatefully at it with piercing green eyes, even whacking it over its round head with her book. _Ancient Runes Made Easy_ , the title read. I frowned. _Ancient Runes? That's one of the extra classes we can take after second year. It sounds fun…_

"But Miss Whittinger!" the cupid squeaked, persisting in trying to land on the table in front of the girl. "I have a valentine for you that simply _must_ be delivered!" He waved a pink card in the air, sounding decidedly un-dwarf-like. _Perhaps Professor Damien bewitched them-?_

The girl rolled her eyes. "I have an Ancient Runes test second class to study for! I don't have time for _valentines_!" She scored a direct hit on the dwarf's bulbous little head, and it dropped from the air, taking the book with it. Both cupid and Laurenzoo's _Ancient Runes Made Easy_ landed at my feet with a _thump_ , narrowly missing my boot-clad toes.

Brooklyn kicked the cupid away, the card falling from its limp hand as I leaned down and picked up the book. After a moment, I took the valentine and slipped it into the back of the book. Standing back up, I handed the book to the girl. It fell open on a random page towards the front of the tome as she took it and set it down on the table. "Thank you. Er- I'm sorry, I don't know your names?"

"Brooklyn Vawdrey," Brooklyn said quickly (before I could even part my lips), "and that's my cousin Aly Salinger. She's a Ravenclaw like you. I'm a Slytherin."

"Thank you both," the girl said, sighing, although she had eyes only for her book. "I _hate_ Cupids. They're so annoying. It's worse that Professor Damien does this every year- I'm Holly Whittinger, by the way, sixth-year-"

"What's that rune?" I interrupted, pointing to one near the bottom of the right page.

Holly barely spared it a glance before answering confidently. "Oh, that's the hydra rune. It means _nine_. Numerical runes are _so_ easy, we've barely looked at them since the beginning of last year. I'm on Ancient Greek runes, want to take a look? Maybe that'll help me study." She started flipping towards the back of the textbook-

"Please sit down!" Professor Damien's impossibly loud voice, still tinged with unmistakable cheeriness, cut through the Great Hall. "It will be easier for Cupids to find you and deliver your Valentine's Day valentine gifts if you aren't milling about!"

"Great," Brooklyn muttered.

I had meant to sit beside Holly so I could learn more about Ancient Greek runes, but suddenly Lanie and Shawnee were back at my side, pulling me over to a spot closer to the high table where all of my friends resided. We sat across from Millie, Helen, and Polly (respectively) as Headmistress McGonagall finally rose, her look of mild annoyance replaced with a professional face.

"Thank you, students, and good morning," she said much too calmly- as if she was trying to restrain herself from Vanishing all of the dwarves. "As you may have remembered, or perhaps seen, it is indeed Valentine's Day. You may thank Professor Damien for the decorations and… _entertainment_."

The Great Hall's masses burst out cheering. I peered at the end of the Gryffindor table through the crowds, trying to catch a glimpse of Conor's sandy golden hair. Was he even there? Was he sick?

"I have, however, outlawed singing valentines after multiple fiascos over the years," Headmistress McGonagall continued, sparking a few groans of disappointment (mostly from the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables). "This is the first year that Cupids will be delivering cards and presents, not songs. We will see how this goes." When no one cried out in protest, she said, "Excellent- I will leave you to break your fasts."

The second she sat down, the previously empty tables filled with sweet breakfast treats. As I nibbled on a muffin, I noticed a Cupid heading right toward us from above. Lanie next to me was reaching for a pastry on a dish between Polly and me when the Cupid landed on the platter, squashing the pastries and nearly Lanie's hand too (she snatched it back just in time).

The Cupid turned to me among oohs and aahs of delight from my friends (mostly Millie and Helen) and offered me a card in a vermilion envelope. "Miss Salinger!" it piped. "This is for you from a secret admirer!"

I blushed, accepting the card. Immediately, my mind flashed to Conor. _Is it foolish to hope it's from him?_ "Er- I don't know what to- thank you!"

It did an odd little hop-skip off the pastries, bowed, and fluttered off, drawing its bow and an arrow too as it searched for some new person whose gifts it could deliver.

"Well?" Millie prodded, cheeks flushed with excitement for me. "Open it!"

Polly, who seemed mildly curious as well, wiped a butter knife from a nearby dish clean with an extra napkin and handed it to me. Taking it from her with a thank-you, I used it to slit open the envelope and withdrew the card. It was a pale, pretty pink with scalloped edges- very elegant, nothing like some of the gaudy cards I saw my fellow students receiving. It looked more like the card I'd given Conor than the one Holly Whittinger had refused, for instance. I opened the card delicately.

There was one line of text written in blocky, thick lettering I didn't recognize.

 _See you in Defense Against the Dark Arts_.

"It's from a Gryffindor!" I exclaimed, heart leaping into my throat. We had DADA second period, which meant that if it had been from a Ravenclaw in that class they would have said _See you in Herbology_.

"Pass it around," Helen said irritably, kicking me under the table.

So I gave it up, reluctantly. There was a chance, after all, that Conor Mathieson had touched that card, written that script. Millie cooed over it, Helen wrinkled her nose teasingly at me, and Polly ignored it- _so much for being interested_ \- and kept eating her apple. Shawnee raised an eyebrow as she kept silent and read the card, but Lanie asked, "I wonder who sent it? It is, after all, unsigned."

"That's _not_ from Nate," Millie said, leaning over the table to see the card in Lanie's hand again. "I would recognize his handwriting."

"It's not from Nick," Helen added.

"Or Conor," Lanie agreed, sending me an apologetic look. "Then again, the handwriting _could_ be disguised."

Just then, something fast and sharp flew in a blur of gold and red past my face. The arrow pinned the sophisticated card to the table in a flash with a whistling sound.

The six of us craned our necks to look up. The Cupid that had delivered the card, not having found a new person to deliver cards for, cackled shrilly- almost evilly, _almost_ insanely- before zipping off and drawing a new arrow. I blinked in surprise.

All of a sudden, arrows hailed down from above in droves of sharp love missiles. A rain of them poured into the masses, prompting shrieks of shock and fear as students tripped over each other running for the doors or hit their heads as they scrambled to get under the relative safety of the tables. Millie, Helen, and Polly chose the latter; Lanie, Shawnee, and I- being closer to a side door- sprinted for it in a mad dash.

Luckily, we made it out of the Great Hall unscathed. Unluckily, we were followed by a maniacally giggling, armed dwarf.

Its first arrow split Lanie's bag in two, lodging in the thick back leather just an inch from Lanie's skin. Its second whizzed past Shawnee, very narrowly missing her nose as she turned to look at Lanie, and lodged itself firmly in a painting of a fat nobleman painting a landscape on an easel, quivering softly with its tip stuck right in the nobleman's arm.

The painting screeched in pain, the nobleman wrenching his now-bleeding arm away from the heart-tipped arrow. The bags of some fleeing older Slytherins in front of us split open, pierced by more golden arrows. I recognized one as Seamus Trotter, the older brother of Brandon Trotter (also a Slytherin, but in my class). I hadn't realized it on Halloween or during classes, but I'd met the Trotter brothers before. They lived on Brooklyn's street. Brooklyn hated Seamus because he mercilessly bullied her and the other kids on the street even though he was only two years older than us, but in that moment I was grateful for Brandon's third-year brother. Well, not Seamus specifically, but whoever his companion was. He was obviously older, maybe a fifth- or sixth-year, and much stockier, and he took the rogue Cupid down easily with a Stunning Spell. It crashed to the floor, bow and arrows scattering everywhere in piles of gold, as the two boys took off down the hall.

"My lady!"

Us three girls- Lanie on the floor trying to collect all of her things, me crouching down helping her, and Shawnee standing with a stupefied Cupid at her feet- all turned slowly to face the painted nobleman. He had obviously healed his painted arm, because the red paint on it was gone, plus the Cupid's arrow had vanished in a puff of smoke and the small hole it ought to have left in the canvas simply wasn't there. The painted man was kneeling in his puffy breeches, facing Shawnee, staring right at her with rapturous brown eyes. "My lady, I cannot help but notice thy ethereal beauty," he crooned earnestly. "Never before have I seen a noblewoman such as thee with such exquisite features! Thy hair curls over thy smooth face with all of the grace of the dancers at court, as lovely as the horizon, as black as the time when the sky becomes dark-" he scratched his head- "er, _night_. Thy eyes are pools of darkness- may I be lost in them? Thy features, I could sing thy praises for days, though I be but an unworthy artist- they are as dainty as those of the finest queen in the land, aye, so much that I could mistake thee for royalty if my eyes are but open-"

Shawnee turned to me. "Can you believe this?"

Lanie and I were trying to hide our giggles, but when we saw Shawnee's annoyed (and decidedly _not_ dainty) face, we held them in and straightened up. "No," Lanie said with a highly amused twist of her mouth.

"This is… an interesting development," I added, trying not to snort as the nobleman prattled on about Shawnee's lips in the background.

Our stout friend rolled her eyes. "Let's go, Lanie, Aly, before I'm forced to use that painting for karate practice."

We hurriedly collected the rest of Lanie's books and sped away, the nobleman continuing to compliment Shawnee in the background. Even as we turned the corner, I could still hear the painting shouting, "My lady, no! Do not leave! I shall follow your gentle beauty to the ends of the earth!"

"What's karate?" I asked as we began to walk the next hallway.

"Muggle fighting techniques," Lanie answered. We slowed our pace considerably because Shawnee was the only one not panting from our short sprint down the corridor. "Shawnee's a black belt."

"I have no idea what that means. Is that good?"

"Considerably," Lanie bragged with a squeeze of Shawnee's arm.

Shawnee looked at her, pursed lips. "Enough of that," she said shortly. "Anyone want to tell me why a painting is stalking me?"

"He was hit by a Cupid's arrow," I suggested. "I think I read somewhere that those have magical love powers? Perhaps the victim falls in love with whatever they first lay eyes on after being struck?"

"Like Amortentia." Shawnee nodded.

"Only a lot less precise," Lanie corrected, struggling to carry her books in her sticklike arms. I took one onto my own stack of Lanie's things. I was tall, and Shawnee was stocky, but Lanie was tiny and slight- making it way harder for her to support so much weight.

A painting on our left squealed, high-pitched. For a second I thought it was another Cupid, but it turned out to just be a group of witches in poofy, muted dresses sewing in a circle around a Muggle queen and smiling. The reason for the yells was that the paunchy nobleman who'd fallen for Shawnee had scrambled into their painting, hair and body covered in dust. They all shrieked shrilly, except for the nobleman of course, and tried to crowd into a corner of the already-full painting.

"My lady!" the nobleman cried out above the screams. "I still know not thy glorious name!"

"I didn't know paintings could travel between paintings," Muggle-born Shawnee grumbled in exasperation.

"I did, but I completely forgot," I apologized. "Sorry!"

We ran for the greenhouses then, stumbling over our robes and trying not to drop Lanie's things. Shawnee had the hardest job of that, since she was carrying all of Lanie's breakables- inkbottle, quill case, etc. We were obviously the first ones to arrive at Herbology, and Professor Longbottom- who had just arrived himself- smiled at us out of his lined face. "In a hurry, girls?"

"A painting's- stalking- Shawnee," I explained between gulps of air. I hadn't thought we were running too fast, just fast enough that no measly painting could catch up, but it felt like we had just completed an all-out sprint now that we had stopped. "It was hit- by a Cupid's arrow- and saw- her first."

"Is the- situation- in the Great Hall- contained?" Lanie panted.

"The Cupids have all been found, Stunned, and locked away for examination," Professor Longbottom answered, patting Lanie's shoulder comfortingly. "A representative from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has been sent for. In fact, I'm surprised you three are here at all- most students chose to stay in the Great Hall and finish breakfast. If the Headmistress hadn't asked me to gather some magical herbs so that Professor Fourier can brew a potion to sedate some of the… _rowdier_ … ones, I would still be there myself."

I realized how hungry I was in that moment, my chocolate muffin having been left half-eaten on my plate because of the arrival of the card. _The card!_ I turned to Lanie. "The card-?!"

She thought for a second, then reached into the inner pocket of her robes and pulled it out. "Safe and sound, Aly. Just in case it is from- you know." She winked and handed it to me. I clutched it tightly, safe.

I stayed hungry all though Herbology and my stomach was still growling when I stepped into Professor Gedding's classroom, joining the flow of people crushing through the door- and ending up right behind Conor and Marshall, whose hair was a lot less purple now.

Just as I did so, Pedro Fitz-Lewis- another Gryffindor boy, who was slight with a thick accent of some kind and even thicker black hair, and who hung out with Conor and Marshall a fair amount- pushed by me to join the pair of boys. "Did I hear right from Tommy just now, Conor mate?" he asked. "You got a Valentine this morning- and not from a Cupid?"

Marshall nodded. He was a small boy, stick-thin, and his dark hair was as rigidly straight as his posture. "We found it this morning on his bedside table."

Conor shrugged. "Some sappy poem. I meant to tell you, Pedro, but you'd already gone to breakfast, and with the Cupid fiasco and the amount of work in Fourier's class…"

Pedro laughed. "I don't blame you- it's like he thinks we're sixth-years! Anyway, was it signed? There are some pretty girls in this year I would hex someone to get a Valentine from, so you're pretty lucky, mate."

"If you count _From your Secret Admirer_ , then yeah, it was signed," Conor said with a dry chuckle. My heart jumped. Unless someone else had signed a different card to Conor in the exact same way and left it in the exact same place, he'd gotten my card! Lyndsay had done her job! But my heart sank into the pit of my stomach at Conor's next words: "It _has_ to be from a Gryffindor. Who else could've gotten into our dorm? I thought it was sorta creepy, to be honest."

Marshall murmured his agreement and Pedro clapped Conor on the back sympathetically- then we were in the classroom's desk area, and the other two boys went off to their seats. I sat down next to Conor as he too slipped into his chair. "Did I hear you got a valentine?" I asked casually. "Sounds fun."

He murmured his agreement and nodded a little, dumping his bag on the floor and searching through it. He pulled out a quill and inkpot, then went back in, probably for parchment.

"Funny!" I laughed, a bit forcefully. "So did I! Did you send any?"

He shook his head, and my heart seized. _I was so sure… so who sent it?_

"Lyss!" a voice from behind me drawled brightly. "Did you get my valentine?"

If it was possible for my heart to drop more, it did. It fell straight out of my body and sunk all the way to the other side of the earth. Then it blasted off into space.

"Yes, Nick," I groaned, fishing the beautiful card I'd so hoped was from Conor from the inside pocket of my robes with two fingers and dropping it on Nick's desk with a sigh. "I did. Ha-ha. Hilarious."

I could've sworn he looked disappointed for a second; then his regular, arrogant, smirky grin flashed across his face. "Isn't it?" he said, reclaiming the card and sticking it messily in his bag. "I thought I did a fabulous job of disguising my handwriting. Glad you liked it!"

I had, of course, liked it. When I'd thought it was Conor's. I almost regretted being so mean to Nick, especially since he'd seemed genuinely hurt for a moment.

Like I said, _almost_.

 **Aww... that was a bit mean of Aly, wasn't it?**

 **Anyhow, I'm so glad to be back on a normal schedule! I'll take all complaints about my inconsistency... in the review box, if you don't mind.**

 **Please remember to review!**

 **~atrfla**


	14. Chapter 14: Rowen's Ruination

**This chapter is going to be fairly short, only about 2000 words, but pretty interesting, in my opinion- a twist in the tale. Or, well, tail. You'll see!**

A month came and went. It still snowed, occasionally, but mostly the days were clear, just bitterly cold. It was one such day on March the eighth, which is why Herbology was canceled that morning- due to the cold, the Puffapods we were supposed to be working with were acting too sluggish to be handled. On the way back to Ravenclaw Tower (minus Polly and Oscar, of course), two different suits of armor came to life and tripped two different people- Eric first, and then Helen second.

The latter, who hated the cold in general, was moaning and complaining by the time we got back to the common room. "This is the worst day ever!" she grumped after we couldn't figure out the answer to the entrance riddle. (A passing fourth-year saved us.) She rubbed her head where it had struck the floor when she tripped. " _Ever!_ "

"It could be worse," Eric quietly pointed out, rubbing his bruising elbow as we entered the commons.

We were greeted by Rowen as Helen challenged, "How?" He sniffed each of us, as if to check that we were all Ravenclaws and that we carried no food. When he got to Eric, who was in the back, his skeletal nostrils flared in- fear? Hate?

"What, boy?" Eric said gently, reaching forward to pet Rowan's nose with a soft, small hand. "Is something wrong?"

Out of all of us, Eric got along best with the thestral. Rowen adored him. To my knowledge, in the past few months, Rowen had only ever left Ravenclaw Tower once- to take soft-spoken, monotonous Eric for a ride around the school grounds in late February with the three other House thestrals and their favorite students, all of whom were much older. Today, though, Rowen seemed agitated, and I wish I could say truthfully that it ended well when the tips of Eric's fingers brushed Rowen.

It didn't.

Rowen reared back and neighed, a loud, shrill sound that actually shattered the glass windows of the common room. The wind and freezing cold rushed in, enveloping us, sweeping through the room. Moments before, a roaring fire had been burning in the fire pit; all of a sudden, every bit of warmth it had afforded us was gone as the flames were tamped down by the gust. Shrieks of shock split the air and my teeth started chattering fiercely, the cold immobilizing everyone as we watched what happened next.

Rowen landed on his hooves again, slamming one into Eric. Our friend went down with a gasp. And then Rowen's teeth were ripping into Eric's flesh, and there was blood everywhere, and no one was moving because our feet were all glued to the floor in shock and from the cold-

-and then there were two blurs, streaks of red light in front of us, and Rowen was on the ground, unmoving. I glanced over to see Isaiah Bramson and a seventh-year girl I didn't know, both with wands out and pointed at the still thestral. Isaiah's was more like a club than a wand, which was incredibly fitting for the stocky Beater. As he ran forward to check that Rowen was indeed- well, what _had_ they done to him? Stunned him?- the girl glanced around. "Well?" she shouted as she moved to help Isaiah. "Move! Someone go get Madam Pomfrey!"

Three fourth-years who still had their wits about them- Kitty among the group- slipped out the door, which closed with a heavy slam behind them. The seventh-year girl crouched by Eric. "Someone give me their jacket," she ordered, holding out a hand and examining Eric's bleeding body with the other.

Those who were wearing jackets were horrified. I didn't have a jacket on, but Art did. He peeled it off and handed it to the girl, who used it to staunch some of the bleeding. Dark red liquid was already beginning to pool beneath Eric, and I bit down so hard on my lip I tasted my own. Was he going to- going to-

Art's jacket was a light brown with blue fur trim- probably faux- and as I watched a dark stain appear and spread rapidly over the thin fabric, my head began to spin. I pressed my hands to my temples, the movement catching my friends' attention.

Lanie scooted closer to me. "Are you okay?" she whispered, worried, eyes still fixed on Eric's broken form.

I nodded weakly, my own green gaze pinned on the same thing. "I'm just feeling a… little lightheaded…"

"That's not good," she murmured back. "You should go lie down."

"And leave Eric?"

"We can't do anything to help him," she argued.

Just then, Kitty- followed by Madam Pomfrey- burst in. Madam Pomfrey's round, kind face went white. "I warned Headmistress McGonagall about those thestrals," she mumbled as she levitated Eric into the air. "Has anyone told her?"

"Levi went to fetch her, and Thomas is getting Professor Maduthy," Kitty replied, her own face paling considerably when she saw the amount of blood soaking into the carpet.

"Good. Nobody move until they arrive." Then she and Eric were gone.

A particularly biting squall of wind swept through the broken windows at that exact moment, making our teeth chatter and goosebumps prickle on our skin. Art looked at his blood-soaked coat, abandoned on the floor, like he wished he hadn't donated it to Eric's cause- but he didn't dare go get another jacket.

It was only another few seconds, anyway, before Headmistress McGonagall (accompanied by Professor Maduthy and the two fourth-year boys who had gone to fetch them) entered the commons. Minerva McGonagall's mouth opened slightly in an involuntary manner as she took in the destroyed windows- Rowen unconscious on the floor, Isaiah and the seventh-year girl crouched over him- a pool of blood next to them- a stained jacket in the middle of that dark liquid, blood still creeping into the light blue fur around the collar- and, of course, the temperatures. She raised a hand to her mouth and whispered softly, "Godric above."

Professor Maduthy approached Rowen and did a quick examination of him- and by that, I mean she glanced the thestral over. "His posture and prickly skin indicate that he's gone back to his carnivorous tendencies," she noted as she bent down and brought her head next to his wide, white, pupil-less eyes. "Oh yes, he's completely back to normal. Even the training Hagrid gave him is completely gone." She looked up to Headmistress McGonagall. "I ought to check the other thestrals. Even if they aren't showing the qualities he is, they oughtn't be around so many humans. Casey Humphries from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures will want to see this- I hate to call him back so soon, but I expect he's nearly done testing the Cupids by now, it's been nearly a month- anyway, he should be able to run tests on the thestrals."

Headmistress McGonagall had stopped listening to her after the first two sentences, having moved to repair all of the windows, and was now rekindling the fire in the fire pit in the center of the room. "You all must be freezing," she said brusquely. "What in the world were you standing here for so long for?" She frowned and then turned to us first-years. "I expect you eight were with Mr. Montgomery when he was attacked?"

We all nodded. She nodded back. "I would like to see you all in my office, please. But first, grab coats from your dormitories. Miss Salinger, your teeth are chattering so loud I could hear them halfway across the room, and Mr. Grimm, you look half-frozen." The kind headmistress turned to Professor Maduthy. "What was it that you were saying, Jamesina?"

Fifteen minutes later we met Headmistress McGonagall outside of her office, dressed in significantly warmer clothing. She whispered words to the gargoyle that guarded it- her breathy speech sounded almost like a name, _Doug_ something- and the huge stone statue gladly slid aside to let us pass. She led us up, up, up, up what seemed like hundreds of stairs- more than were necessary to get up to Ravenclaw Tower, even- and through a heavy door, finally, into her office.

It was a large and beautiful circular room, rather airy, the walls full of arched bookshelves and the floor made of white marble, with a few steps up past beautifully carved columns to a raised podium on which Headmistress McGonagall's desk sat alone. The walls behind the desk were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses- I noticed Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape among them- and while most were asleep, two witches were awake and speaking in hushed tones. They silenced almost as soon as we entered the room and eyed us with wide, curious gazes. My eyes, though, were immediately drawn to a glass case with an open front behind the desk, in which resided an old, grubby hat. _The Sorting Hat._

All in all, it was not unlike Ravenclaw Tower, and I liked her office immediately.

Conjuring up eight uncomfortable-looking chairs for us to sit in, Headmistress McGonagall sat in her own seat and faced all eight of us. "What happened?" she asked, not being one to mince words. "Mr. Grimm? Why don't you tell your side of the story first."

Kevin looked quite uncomfortable at being put on the spot so quickly. Rubbing his arm, he mumbled, "A thestral attacked Eric. He just petted it and it attacked him."

"Did Eric do anything to provoke the thestral?" Headmistress McGonagall asked, making notes on a piece of parchment with an emerald-green quill that matched her trademark robes. When Kevin shook his head, she evidently decided she wouldn't get anything more from a boy whose best friend had just been maimed horribly by a carnivorous skeleton horse. She turned her gaze to Millie. "What about you, Miss Thresher?"

Between the eight of us, she ended up with the full story and as many details as we could remember. Eric had been attacked by an agitated-looking thestral after attempting to soothe it by calmly petting its nose. Isaiah and that seventh-year girl- Will claimed that her name was Amelia Warner- had Stunned Rowen and saved Eric by staunching the flow of blood from the wounds on his chest caused by the thestral's teeth, using Art's 'favorite' jacket to do so.

When the last of us- Art- finished complaining about the amount of magic he'd have to do to restore his jacket to full cleanliness, Headmistress McGonagall nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, Mr. Grimm- Miss Thresher- Miss Kelling-" After thanking us each personally, in order, she said, "I believe your friend will recover well, and not suffer any sustained injuries. He may have to stay in the hospital wing for the next few weeks, but Poppy Pomfrey is a strong Healer, and he will be back with you in no time. Now, it's nearly time for your next class, I believe." At our cries of protest- we wanted to see Eric, make sure he was okay for ourselves- she shook her head. "Poppy does not like guests when she has patients to tend to. You can visit Mr. Montgomery later. Now go! You don't want to be late to Transfiguration."

So we went. We did, after all, not want to be late to Transfiguration.

I slid into the last available seat in Professor Descoteaux's classroom three minutes later just as class was beginning- someone had stolen the desk I usually sat at, so I ended up next to Oscar. He frowned at me. Oscar Fitzgerald was a funny sort of fellow, always doing one of three things: blurting out random facts, disappearing, or remaining completely emotionless. Right now, he was doing the first.

"Thestrals do not have eyelids," he whispered to me as Descoteaux began his lecture on matchboxes and how to Transfigure small creatures into them. "It is also a possible, if rare, corporeal form of the difficult Patronus Charm, and are related to aethonans."

By now, I'd gotten fairly used to Oscar, because whenever he was around that was how he spoke. It was like a riddle, and I was a Ravenclaw, so I was good at solving Oscar's riddles. Generally he just talked about the subject he wanted to know about but in an abstract form of some sort. "Headmistress McGonagall thinks Eric will be fine," I whispered back.

His brown eyes affixed on me. "Thestrals are attracted to the smell of blood."

"Eric will be fine," I asserted. "He'll be fine."

 **Like I said- only one big point of action this week, but, well, when I have big action points I write them** _ **huge**_ **.**

 **What did you think of this chapter? What do you think will happen to Eric? Why do you think the thestrals are going back to normal** ** _now?_** **Let me know answers to these questions, and any questions you may have, in the review box below!**

 **~atrfla**


	15. Chapter 15: Green Slime

**An action-packed chapter is what I have in store for you guys this week! Read and enjoy.**

And he was. It took a full week and a half for Eric to heal enough to attend classes again. Even then, he was still weak and normally very tired. In fact, one day he even fell asleep in class.

It was that very afternoon, after Charms, that I bumped into Terry outside the Charms classroom. I had stayed late after the lesson to help clean up the pineapples we had been learning to make dance (some had exploded and Ivan Liripine's had melted), and the seventh-years had class immediately after us that day.

"Aly!" Terry said with a grin as we steadied ourselves. "Wonderful- I left a note for you and your friends on the common room board, but it must have been replaced or vanished. I just wanted to let you know that Quidditch practice for tonight has been moved to Saturday afternoon. I'm sorry if you can't make it- blame Gryffindor. According to Professor Fourier, they booked the field before we did."

"I can make it," I assured him. I'd taken to coming to watch Ravenclaw Quidditch practices Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings- Friday morning practices were often far too early for me to wake up on a school day- to see how the team worked. After all, if I wanted to be on the team next year, I had to know how to work alongside Isaiah. Plus, I really loved watching them play- the three Chasers a seamless object, the Beaters a wonderful and terrible pair, the Seeker nimble, the Keeper (Terry) fierce. Terry was glad for my audience. The entire team adored the attention. In fact, sometimes my friends came along so the team could play skirmishes in front of a small crowd. Terry claimed it helped them with the nervousness that often came on during a match due to the hundreds of spectators.

"Perfect," he agreed with a pat on my shoulder. He opened his mouth to say more, but just then, Professor Brocklehurst opened the door to the Charms classroom and stepped out into the empty corridor.

"Terry!" she exclaimed. "You're the first one here. Would you mind watching the classroom for me? I need to run an urgent message to Minerva McGonagall. And could you conjure up a few brick walls using the bricks behind my desk? We'll be learning the maximized explosion spell today."

Terry nodded smoothly. "Of course, Professor. I'll see you and your friends Saturday night, then, Aly," he added to me as the elderly Charms professor drifted away. "Bring as many of your friends as you can get to come- bring the whole Ravenclaw House if you have to- we need to practice in front of a big audience, Kitty's getting jitters after Friday's match."

"Will do," I said confidently. He walked by me with a square-jawed smile into the classroom and shut the door behind him.

The door promptly vanished.

I thought absolutely nothing of it at the time, as I turned and walked away towards Defense Against the Dark Arts, heart quickening at the thought of Conor Mathieson's face. Only when two classes later Kitty burst into the common room with an ashen face and swelling red eyes, sobbing something about Terry and the school, did I realize that the room door shouldn't have just… _disappeared._

"Kitty! Calm down, for Rowena's sake!" Holly- the sixth-year from the Great Hall, from the disastrous Valentine's Day fiasco- leaped up from where she sat writing an essay in a velvet armchair across the common room, seizing the normally serene fourth-year's shoulders. "What's wrong?"

I'd never seen Kitty such a mess. Her face was red and blotchy, her eyes puffy, tears spilling down her face in droves of water. "It's T-Terry!" She sobbed. "He's in the hospital wing w-with some kind of head in-injury that M-Madam Pomfrey can't heal! She- she says he has to be t-transferred to St. Mungo's or- or he'll b-bleed out for sure!" She dissolved into Holly's welcoming arms.

Millie, Helen, and I were working on our Transfiguration homework together near the fire pit; we turned to each other in shock. Terry? In _St. Mungo's_?

Helen voiced the obvious. "What'll happen to our Quidditch team? No Captain, no Keeper… Gryffindor won't even have to _try_ to beat us into the ground- it'll just come naturally!"

"What about Terry's health?" Millie snapped at her. "Aren't you worried about him? No Hogwarts student's had to go to St. Mungo's in at least thirty years, maybe more!"

"Obviously I'm concerned," Helen retaliated with a frown. "But at St. Mungo's, Terry will have the best of care. He'll be well in time to take his exams and graduate, no problem, I bet. But what about Ravenclaw? Without a Captain, without a Keeper? We're going to be dead in the water here!"

Kitty, thanks to Holly's kind and soothing words and arms, was calm enough by then to walk over to us. Wiping her red eyes with a white handkerchief embroidered with the letters _HJW_ , she smiled halfheartedly and laid a hand on Helen's shoulder. "It's going to be all right, Helen," she told my cousin. "I'm going to stand in as captain, in the meantime. I would've thought Isaiah would be a better choice-" she glanced around the room as if to find the younger of the two Ravenclaw Beaters, but gave up when she discovered he wasn't in the commons- "since he's a year older than me and all, or maybe Ivy-" Ivy Jones, the second of the three Chasers, was also a fifth-year- "but Professor Fourier called me in and said he chose me instead. And we have a substitute Keeper, actually, since someone showed up to tryouts this year not knowing the Keeper spot was already taken. He wasn't half bad. His name is Zachary Henson, and he's in my year, but I haven't ever really talked to him- he was just Fourier's suggestion." One side of her mouth quirked up in a sad smile. "I ought to tell him we need to take him on- I'll need to train him." Raising her voice, she asked the common room that was now all staring at her: "Does anyone know where I can find Zachary Henson?"

"Zach's in the boys' dorm," said a short fourth-year boy with shaggy blond hair and a tacky, terrible American accent. "Want me to get him?"

Kitty nodded thankfully, and the boy took a leisurely stroll up toward the boys' dormitory. He returned a few moments later with another blond boy in tow. If I'd thought the American boy's hair was long and unkempt, I had obviously never met Zachary Henson. His put the American's to shame. Broad-shouldered, tall Zachary's dirty blond locks grew to his shoulders, falling in his face and over his dark blue eyes in a ragged cut. At least, I _thought_ his eyes were dark blue. With so much hair covering them, his eyes were hard to see.

Kitty regarded both boys- Zachary tall and hulking, the American boy shorter and much skinner. Turning to the smaller one, she asked, "Your name is Reuben, right? Reuben… Alfred?"

"Alfray," Reuben corrected her. His accent was truly horrendous- flattened vowels, nearly nonexistent consonants, and that horrid _drawl._ I shuddered, glad I'd never met him before.

"Alfray. Thank you," Kitty repeated. It was a clear dismissal.

But Reuben Alfray kept talking. "Since your Seeker Selmon's a seventh-year and you'll probably be captain again next year-" he pronounced _probably_ like _prahbly_ , and I heard Helen wince in discomfort- "d'ya think you could give me a tryout early, you know? That way you can go into next year with a strong Seeker by your side and-"

Kitty fixed him with a glare. "Tryouts are early next year if you'd wish to join the team, Reuben."

The American's speech trailed to a halt.

"Right now I'm more concerned with winning _this_ year's Cup than I am about creating next year's team," she continued. My neighbor turned her eyes to Zachary. "Zachary- Zach- could you come with me to Professor Fourier's office? We'd like to discuss your joining the Ravenclaw Quidditch team as a substitute Keeper." Then she hiccupped- evidently, she was not so composed as she appeared to be.

Reuben slunk away, his look of arrogance gone. Kitty lead Zachary out of the common room, and as the door closed with a loud _bang_ behind them, Holly sat down in her chair and the room went back to work.

When I showed up to practice Saturday afternoon, every single one of my first-year Ravenclaw friends as well as a few older students in tow, Zach was decked out in all of Terry's gear- helmet, shoulder pads, knee braces and all. He was even riding Terry's broom, an old Nimbus Two Thousand and One that had been around for decades. It was fast but not fast enough to be a Chaser's broom or a Seeker's ride, just a Keeper's.

I saw Kitty hastily wipe a tear from her cheek between flying drills, and I understood why. In all of Terry's uniform equipment, riding his broom, Zach Henson looked just like the injured seventh-year (who _had_ been transferred to St. Mungo's, indeed). Then Kitty launched herself into training him, throwing the Quaffle at him with twice her usual vigor and no signs of nervousness at all, nary a one.

And then March was over, and April was passing, and exams rapidly approaching. I crammed and crammed, feeling pity for when my classmates had to miss class periods- like Maria Bird, or just "Mari", who sprained her ankle after being tripped by a suit of armor and falling down a flight of stairs after her History of Magic class. She had to miss half of Professor Damien's lesson on comets.

Others were getting hurt, too. I heard rumors of paintings in the third-floor corridor going insane and nearly ripping some fourth-floor painted persons to shreds. And the news boards in the common rooms turned nasty and cruel, spitting out dark secrets about students. No one wanted to know about that seventh-year Hufflepuff girl's familial troubles, or the fact that the one Gryffindor boy had cheated on his girlfriend over the Christmas holiday, or the fact that a poor Slytherin second-year's unrequited crush on a Ravenclaw upperclassman had not come to fruition, yet all of those stories appeared on the Ravenclaw bulletin board starting in the early weeks of April.

And oh!, those both affected me.

Ever since paintings had magically started vanishing in early January, leaving no trace behind, there had been a worry that the Fat Lady would disappear and leave the Gryffindor common room unprotected. So far, only two of the thirty-something paintings that had disappeared had been found, both discovered by fourth-year Hufflepuff girls. One day in the middle of April, the fear came true. The Fat Lady just vanished, without a trace.

So Sir Cadogan, the crazy knight who resided normally in a painting placed near Professor Quirke's Divination tower, replaced her- just like he had in the 1993-1994 school year nearly fifty years before. He'd been horrid then, and according to Lyndsay he was horrid now, challenging everyone to duels in loud voices and changing the password every other hour for 'safety'. It was to everyone's relief that he went 'rogue' two weeks later and tried to slit the throat of his very own pony. He was immediately removed from his position as a consequence, and put into storage with the rest of the insane portraits.

When no one volunteered to take his place for fear something bad would happen to their paintings, the professors were forced to move the Gryffindors from their dormitory. At least, that's what Headmistress McGonagall announced at supper on Wednesday, May first.

A wail of protest arose from the packed red table.

Headmistress McGonagall looked sternly at them. "After all that's been going on at Hogwarts lately, I should think that you all would be glad to be moved to a safer, more _unaffected_ location. Now, as I was saying, Gryffindor first-year through fourth-year boys will be sheltered in the Slytherin dormitories."

Conor and Nate grinned at each other and then at Eli, Brandon, and the rest of their Slytherin first-year mates.

"Gryffindor first-year through fourth-year _girls_ have been assigned to the Ravenclaw dormitories," Headmistress McGonagall continued, "leaving all Gryffindor fifth- through seventh-years to reside in the Hufflepuff dormitories."

I swapped excited glances with Lyndsay and Lanie, while Millie and Helen squealed and clapped their hands, looking at their popular Gryffindor friends who were doing the same thing. Shawnee, who was sitting next to me, leaned over and whispered in my ear. "There are six of us and nine Gryffindor first-year girls. How are fifteen of us going to fit in the dormitory?"

The answer, as it turned out, was to simply expand the room we all slept in. Before, six beds had been able to fit in the little room. Now, there were _sixteen_ of the canopied sleeping spaces in the highly elongated, narrower room.

That night, no homework was completed as we shuffled around our things to organize and make room for the Gryffindor girls. Lorie, Lea, Sami, Juliet, Liana, Elysa, Millie, and Helen claimed the eight beds nearest the door. Polly and Melissa, the two quiet ones, put their things on the two beds nearest them, leaving six beds for Lanie, Shawnee, Lyndsay, Tamsin, and me to divvy up between us. The bed closest to Polly we left empty. Tamsin took the one next to Melissa, across from the empty bed; Lyndsay plopped down next to her, and I quickly seized the one between Lyndsay's bed and the wall. Lanie and Shawnee were happily left with the two across from Lyndsay and I, on the left side of the corridor-like space.

Not much sleep was acquired that night, either. The popular girls giggled and talked for hours; we did the same, only we played games. Polly and Melissa were the sole ones who crawled into bed at precisely nine o'clock and went to sleep.

Lyndsay, in her red pajamas, donned a blue headband to 'get in the Ravenclaw spirit' (although Tamsin protested that sleeping in the Ravenclaw dormitory did not an eagle make). I'd never talked to Tamsin all that much before, but I soon discovered that the slender redhead was loud, moved deftly but not clumsily, and was full of brash bravery, which made her perfect for the lion house. I found out this last tidbit after she took a dare from Lyndsay and climbed out the window, clambering up to the top of Ravenclaw Tower in nothing but her pajamas and boots to shout "I'm on top of the wooooooorld!" into the cold and windy night.

The next morning, May 2nd, I was buttering a warm muffin alone at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall when the second of the two catastrophes began to affect me. Brooklyn burst in in a flurry of black robes and hair, looking agitated. Her dark eyes scanned the Hall before she spotted me and hurried over, worry etched upon her tan face. I felt my own stomach begin to gurgle with dread. "What's wrong?"

In response, she pulled from her bag a folded piece of parchment- almost like a flyer or a note that one might see on a bulletin board- and handed it to me.

I opened it slowly, the paper crinkling as she blocked it from anyone's eyes but ours. It was a very large flyer, with giant words written in sloppy, blocky script I recognized from the corrupted Ravenclaw newsboard.

 **ALYSSA SALINGER, RAVENCLAW FIRST-YEAR, LOVES GRYFFINDOR FIRST-YEAR CONOR MATHIESON**

Brooklyn stabbed her finger at the words in confusion and distrust. "Aly, is this true?"

I could feel the blood rising to my face. Glad no one else was watching, I stammered in protest, "Y-yes, but I didn't tell anyone! W- wha- where did you find this?"

I was afraid I already knew the answer.

She confirmed my suspicions by saying with a roll of her brown eyes, "The Slytherin commons bulletin board."

I flinched, though I'd already guessed. "Do you think anyone saw this?"

She shrugged, looking over at the sparsely populated Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. It was early on a Thursday morning, hence the emptiness at all five tables of the hall. The Gryffindor tables only held a few sixth-years and seventh-years, but a few people I knew were at the Slytherin table- namely, two fellow second-years (swanlike Asian Grace Liu and plump, pretty goth Cheryl "Cher" London), who were joined by a small pack of unfamiliar fifth-year boys and a couple of seventh-years. "We were all up late last night welcoming the Gryffindors with a true Slytherin bash, so I don't think many people are up yet. Still-" she waved her arms at the green table- "if any of them saw it, you're toast."

I frowned. Maybe this whole thing wouldn't be so bad. If anyone found out, no one would care… right? "Why?"

"Ever met Jamie Mathieson?" Brooklyn grimaced in hatred. "She's so protective of Conor it's crazy. I heard her giving Grace this speech one time on how a girl 'back home' had broken his heart a while back, and how she wasn't going to let that happen again. It's ridiculous, but she's passionate about it- belongs in Slytherin with that kind of ambition, if you ask me, but personally I wouldn't want to have to sleep in the same room as her."

I winced, doubts and fears returning. "Can you let me know if someone- _anyone_ \- mentions it?"

"Of course, Aly. What are cousins for?" And she went away.

I stuffed the parchment into my bag and stood up, finding that I'd lost my appetite, even for a delicious, warm muffin slathered with gooey butter. Then I left for class, long before my friends even entered the Great Hall.

I had Transfiguration first that day, and the classroom door was open a crack when I arrived. Voices were issuing from within- _professors'_ voices. Curious, I hid myself in a niche by the door, tried to stifle my breathing, and listened.

"…isn't normal," came Professor Descoteaux's French-accented voice. He was a sly man, tall, with a ratlike face and demeanor, and very twitchy hands. No one liked him, as a teacher _or_ as a person. He just seemed so _evil_ , unlike his fellow former Slytherin Professor Damien, who was cheerful and kind most of the time. "Ze zestrals? Ze paintings? Ze ghosts?"

"Don't forget the cupids," sighed Professor Damien sadly. I stifled a giggle at his dejected tone, remembering the painting that had stalked Shawnee and the cupid that had delivered…. The grin slid off my face at the thought of Nick's valentine.

"Or the mice," Professor Maduthy added.

"What about the classrooms, the staircases?" demanded Professor Fourier. "I lost my Quidditch captain to one of those jumping classrooms nearly two months ago. He won't be back until after the Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor Quidditch match- he'll even have to take his N.E.W.T.s in St. Mungo's, for Rowena's sake!"

"And the secret-spilling bulletin boards?" grumbled Professor Gedding. "That's just cruel. Whatever evil creature is doing this steeds to be nopped."

I could tell he was agitated because he had mixed up the beginnings of his words, something Gedding often did when distressed.

There was a chorus of agreement from the other professors, which were cut short by the sharp tones of Headmistress McGonagall. "It is nearly time for class," she interrupted. "You should all be in your classrooms. We will meet in my office after dinner to continue this discussion and decide what to do about the situation. Damien- walk with me."

I had poked my head out of my little nook in order to hear better, and I yanked it back into the crevice like a turtle into its shell as the door opened and professors flooded out. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, fast and nervous. Inside, I marveled, _A creature? What kind of_ creature _? Where could it have come from- how is it terrorizing Hogwarts- and_ why _?_ _Dad_ knew _something was going on! We all knew the thestrals weren't normal, the paintings, the classrooms, staircases, the mice, even! Terry's hurt because of this_ thing _, and Mari, and everyone who's been affected._

 _It's that creature's fault if anyone finds out I fancy Conor._

Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Damien hurried out of Descoteaux's classroom last of all, stopping a little ways down the corridor. I froze, ears straining to hear.

"Spirits like this don't pop up often," Professor Damien said in a low, concerned voice. "They're dangerous. We're lucky no one's died yet. We ought to call in the Ministry, Minerva-"

 _A spirit?_

"No," Headmistress McGonagall refused. "We're not even sure it _is_ a spirit- Marcus was right to call it a 'creature'. Perhaps it's a curse."

"So we call in the Curse Breakers," Professor Damien argued. "Minerva, it's idiotic to leave a schoolful of students to fight magic that is more powerful than they could ever hope to be!"

Peeking out from my hiding spot, I saw Headmistress McGonagall whirl on her companion. "I know what I'm doing, Damien. Need I remind you that I am nearly seventy-five years your senior? I was Headmistress here while you were still doing children's magic at home as a toddler. You are an excellent teacher, but you are barely thirty-five."

"Thirty-six."

"You do not have the wisdom that comes with age on your side, as was proven by your latest interruption. You make rash decisions, and sometimes I do doubt the Wizengamot's decision to make you the Deputy Headmaster. Someday, one of your impetuous choices will get you killed." She sighed, composing herself. "I do not want to bring the Ministry of Magic here until absolutely necessary. Whether it is a curse or a spirit, or something else, there _will_ be tell-tale signs that we can find. If it's a spirit, you know that there will be green slime somewhere within the castle. Maybe it was trapped and recently freed, or a student brought it to school. Curses are versatile and there could be many signs of one- we shall browse the Restricted Section during your free period, and see if we can find anything with Irma. If someone did something to activate a curse, we will know, but until we have more information, we must keep the government away from Hogwarts."

They strolled off in silence, and I crawled out from my niche, dread filling every inch of my body as if I was being slowly immersed in freezing water. My stomach felt like it was falling into a never-ending pit of despair.

 _Green slime._

Images from memories flashed through my head, of green slime gathering in a cracked mirror- a spirit, recently freed.

 _But I repaired the mirror!_

I debated running off to the seventh-floor corridor to find that disappearing room, the one I'd found the mirror in on my very first day of classes, in that moment. But the sounds of my classmates clomping up stairs and down corridors, chattering loudly with their bellies full, were beginning to reach my ears, and the time was drawing close to the beginning of class. I didn't want to miss a single class with the Gryffindors- and I had to know if someone had told Conor about the flyer. Plus, I was on the first floor. It would be impossible to get to the seventh floor and back in time, and the room was fickle- would it appear for me? Sighing, I pushed through the door to Transfiguration class, the first student to arrive. I chose a seat in the front row and slumped into it, bag dropping to the floor.

 _I'll have to find it later. After dinner, maybe. Definitely not now, but I will find it._

 **Have I ever told you guys that foreshadowing is one of my favorite literary elements?**

 **Don't forget to review! Even if it's just a simple "hey, that was good" or "I liked how you did** ** _this_** **" or even some constructive criticism. Reading your reviews always makes my day!**

 **See you next Saturday!**

 **~atrfla**


	16. Chapter 16: The Ravenclaw Room

**Short chapter this week, but I hope you guys enjoy!**

Hours later, I paced up and down the seventh-floor corridor, waiting for the room to appear like it always did when I'd been walking around for a while. No one was with me or hiding nearby, and I hadn't been followed- I'd checked. Granted, although Nick had been in my last class- Defense Against the Dark Arts- I had booked it from the third floor, and plus everyone was supposed to be at dinner anyway. I had no doubt that I was alone when I pushed through the finally-there door to find a cavernous, domed, circular room painted dark blue, with books stacked on shimmering bronze shelves around the space… and no mirror in sight.

I frowned, even though excitement was coursing through my veins. _This must be the Ravenclaw incarnation of the room! How I've waited for this! So where's the mirror?_

The walls only carried bookshelves, nothing more- and as I examined them, I realized that I knew most of the books. From _A Children's Anthology of Monsters_ by Newton Scamander to _The W.O.M.B.A.T. Revision Guide_ by the Wizarding Examinations Authority, I'd seen every book in the library, or in Flourish and Blotts, or in my parents' bookcases- or I had them myself! But these seemed older than my shiny new copies with the perfectly cut pages, _ages_ older, with leather spines and roughly cut or even uncut pages making up most of the anthologies.

"First editions," I whispered in wonder, dragging my finger lightly across the spines of _Extraordinary Trials in History_ by Joachim Abrams, _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling, and my personal favorite from when I was six years old- _Dobby: The House-Elf Who Sparked a Revolution_ by Chelsea Prince. I'd read these books all my life, and here were the _original_ ones.

Only, there was one book I didn't recognize. Leather-bound with the edges of its pages gilded bronze, I found it right smack-dab in the middle of the complete collection of Miranda Goshawk's _The Standard Book of Spells_ series, between sixth-year and seventh-year, only cementing its out-of-place status. _Seeking True Wisdom_ , its spine read in white embossed script.

And despite the fact that I was supposed to be looking for a mirror that could help my friends and my professors and me save Hogwarts from some unknown, bloodthirsty spirit, not a book, I found myself drawn to the tome. True wisdom- wasn't that what _all_ Ravenclaws strived to find? _Wit beyond measure-_ it had been our founder's policy and it was ours, too.

I brushed my right index finger lightly across the top of the book, where the binding met pages, and pulled it out of the shelf.

Only, as I pulled the book from the shelf, it only came halfway off before the book- and the entire circular bookshelf with it- vanished, leaving not a trace behind.

The wall it had been hiding was not circular but straight- in fact, all four walls were straight, creating a large square room painted with plain brown walls. _An illusion, then, to hide the true room_.

However, I could only see glimpses of the wall I was facing, because many glittering mirrors hung on the wall. Not one, but maybe a dozen or two. They ranged from tiny, compact-sized, with lids, to as big as the Gryffindor mirror- and bigger, flashier even.

Only one big patch of the wall was clearly visible, up at the very top where brown wall met white ceiling. An ornate, loopy bronze script scrolled lightly across the wall from right to left, vanishing in the left corner and reappearing in the right, like a giant hand was writing it over and over again.

 _Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure. Choose, wit-seeker, and choose wisely._

I gaped, open-mouthed. Only the Ravenclaw mirror would have lots of tests leading up to discovering it!

I examined the mirrors. The biggest of them all took up a fourth of the wall, and it was simple as the walls were; it hung next to a medium-sized mirror with fancy inscriptions and curves. Most of the mirrors were rather flashy, and glimmered like stars. Only the biggest and one of the smallest mirrors were plain. I crouched down to look at the small, unassuming thing. It was unpolished bronze and square-shaped, with a royal blue handle and a small bronze flower attached to the top. Although it was petite and basic, it shined blue with all the wisdom the other mirrors could never bestow.

I took it into my hand, pulling it off the wall with a careful yank. At once, all of the other mirrors disappeared, and the scrolling script on the wall changed instantly.

 _Good choice. Seek your wisdom, wit-seeker_.

I glanced down at the mirror, cold stone and silver, in my hands. The screen shimmered into a scene- one I recognized, albeit my memory was from a different point of view. I watched the strangely vivid and detailed memory as a pale girl in hastily thrown-on robes and a uniform patted down her unruly light brown curls in a silver mirror and then whirled to run out.

I knew what would happen next all too well.

 _A loud crack._

 _Turning back around._

 _Green slime on the mirror._

 _Fumbling for my wand, casting the repair spell, spinning to leave before it fully healed-_

But wait…

The view changed from the girl running haphazardly out the door to the healing mirror. Only, it had stopped fixing itself. More slime was gathering in the crack, dripping in sheets down the glass like ominous neon green fingers spreading out over the first thing it would claim on its eventual rampage- its former prison.

I sank slowly to the floor, hands clutching the mirror tightly, so tightly I could see the bright white forming around my knuckles and the blood rushing to my fingers.

Professor Damien was right- there _was_ a spirit terrorizing Hogwarts.

And thanks to the wisdom I had been seeking, I now knew it was my fault all along.

 **Yikes. You guys know me well enough by now to understand that self-doubt because of a mistake is one of my FAVORITE things to write, so you can definitely expect to see some of this in the next chapter!**

 **Speaking of: _the next chapter will NOT be posted next Saturday, May 6._ I'm going on a trip that weekend and unfortunately will not have internet access! Instead, Chapter 17 will be going up on Aly Salinger's birthday, _Tuesday, May 9_! **

**~atrfla**


	17. Chapter 17: Aly's Birthday

"Aly, are you all right? You seem distracted."

I looked up. Tamsin was standing there, coarse red mane pulled back into a messy ponytail, Lanie and Shawnee at her back. They all wore matching concerned looks on their pretty faces. It had been a week since I'd discovered the Ravenclaw mirror and subsequently found out that everyone who'd gotten hurt could blame me for their injuries or inconveniences.

 _What has my vanity come to?_ I'd been groaning inwardly nonstop for the past seven days, full of regret and self-hatred. _I wanted to fix my hair before class, and because of that I've put at least ten or twenty people in the hospital wing… I may as well have wounded them myself._

"I'm fine," I mumbled, turning my attention back towards the window. For being early May, it was storming outside. Lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and rain pelted the window I was curled up by with a vigor.

The weather matched my stormy mood perfectly.

A smile tugged at Lanie's lips. "No, you're not," she scolded, reaching forward and pulling at my slender wrist with her surprisingly strong grip. "Come on. We have something to show you. Pull you out of this funk you've been in as of late."

"What?" I groaned, resisting movement. Dinner was in an hour, and I wasn't moving until then- and that was _if_ my appetite returned.

Tamsin yanked me upright. For such a stick of a girl, she had some incredible strength, and I half-stumbled, half-fell out of the window seat. "Come on, Aly," she ordered, dragging me through the common room and into the girls' dormitories. She threw open the door to our room and held out her arms. "Ta-da!"

My eyes scanned the normal-looking, empty dormitory. "Wha-"

With that, all of my friends- my dorm-mates (including the Gryffindors), Brooklyn, and Rossalene- jumped out from behind their beds. The only two missing were Melissa and Polly, but that wasn't a surprise- Polly vanished quite often, and Melissa was probably in the Hufflepuff dorms with her friends. "Happy birthday, Aly!" they cried out, their arms full of presents.

My hand flew to my mouth with a gasp. With all of the moping (and trying to figure out a plan to take down the spirit) I'd been doing, I had completely forgotten that my birthday- May 9th- even existed this year.

Brooklyn, who was closest to the door, nudged me excitedly with a huge grin. "We noticed you'd been sort of down lately, so we decided to hide all of your gifts when they arrived and throw you a bit of a surprise party."

"It was Brooklyn's idea," chirped Liana, smiling shyly.

"But _we_ did all the work," Sami grumbled.

"And there's cake!" added Tamsin. She glanced around the dormitory as we entered. "Where's the cake?"

Rossalene held it up, a big brown-and-white lump on top of a shiny bronze platter. "I left a note for the house-elves in my dormitory last night, and it was on my dresser after classes today."

Lea elbowed Sami. "See, Sams? You didn't do _all_ of the work!"

We all laughed, and Lyndsay cut the cake and handed out slices. It was a gigantic dessert, all chocolatey and rich with fresh fruit and _lots_ of buttercream. We probably shouldn't have been eating it before dinner, but we did anyway. And the gifts just made the night- knitted creations from Grandmother Black, an owl care set from my grandmum and granddad Salinger, books from my parents (they knew me so well), and candy from most of my friends.

Lyndsay went last. "Thi' is really from all o' us," she informed me, gesturing around to all of the Gryffindor girls. "Vince bought i' on 'is last 'Ogsmeade trip, an' we paid 'im back for i'."

The package was small and irregularly shaped, but heavy for such a tiny gift. I tore off the plain brown wrapping to reveal a small hand mirror, halfway between a compact and the Ravenclaw mirror in size. It was bronze and inlaid with blue gems that sparkled in the lowlight, and writing was engraved in loopy script across the top.

 _Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure._

My breath hitched in my throat. All of a sudden I couldn't breathe, my lungs were choking up, thinking of the green slime and the words _Good choice_ in an eerily similar handwriting and Eric and Terry and Mari and all of the rest…

The girls must've taken my panic as a speechless happiness, because they all smiled.

"It's to fix up your hair in the mornings," Juliet chimed in, giggling.

"Since it's always _so_ messy," Sami muttered with an eye roll.

Lorie frowned at her. She was definitely the quietest, but her white-blond waves and porcelain skin made up for her lack of speech. "That's rude," she said in a soft whisper.

"Sami's _always_ rude," Elysa ribbed, tossing her dark curls in a huff. She was second-prettiest only to Lorie, but she seemed to try harder to _be_ beautiful- and she flirted with _everyone_ , including Conor, which generally got on my nerves. "Anyway, Aly, we thought you'd like it because Shawnee mentioned that you tend to oversleep and don't have time to fix your appearance in the mornings. Now you can do it on the go!" She winked.

"Useful, huh?" Lea asked, nudging me in the ribs. I didn't like Lea much either, but that was because she was your stereotypical queen bee- exclusive, gorgeous, and rude to all of those students who dared cross her. "It was all _my_ idea, of course."

"Liar," Tamsin accused her lightly. "It was Liana's, and you know it!"

I smiled at the shy Asian girl, who was twisting the longest lock of hair from her smooth, shiny bob cut around her right pointer finger. Thanks to the banter of the Gryff girls, my shock and nerves had receded somewhat. They didn't know- they _couldn't_ have known. It was just a gift that they had thought would be useful. They were just being nice. "Thanks, Liana. And thank you all- it's beautiful. And Sami's right, my hair _is_ always messy!" I held up one light brown curl. "It comes with the frizz."

The girls laughed, and then the Gryffindors stood up all as one. "We're going to go downstairs if no one wants any more cake and hand it out to passers-by," Lea said confidently. "Want to come with?"

All except Rossalene and Lanie followed the honey blonde out of the dormitory, ready to encounter some lucky pedestrians. The Hufflepuff and the Ravenclaw stayed up in the dormitory with me to help me organize my new stash of gifts. For a birthday that I had basically forgotten about, it had turned out pretty well, I thought.

Lanie hung the last of my presents- a small clock from Aunt Lucy and Uncle Reggie- on the wall beside my bed, turning to me in a swift movement. "A little more than half an hour until dinner, Aly. Want to go down to the common room? I wanted to work together on that Charms essay that's due Monday, and maybe the Gryffindors will have a little cake left over for us to share."

"Actually, can I have a quick word with Aly?" Ross interjected with an imploring, sweet smile. "It'll be quick, I swear."

"Sure!" Lanie grinned, shrugging. "I'll be down in the commons when you two are done. But you'll only have yourselves to blame when I eat the rest of that delicious pudding."

The door hadn't even latched behind Lanie's exit when Rossalene turned to me.

"Aly," she said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. She was quite a bit shorter than me, so she had to reach up to put her slender tan fingers next to my neck.

"Ross?" I said uncertainly.

She looked at me sadly. "I don't know what was wrong earlier or what's been wrong all this week. I saw the look on your face when you opened that mirror, and it was strange- not _offended_ , really, Aly, but more like scared, for a moment." She took a deep breath, and her dark brown eyes- so full of kindness and hope- met my green ones. "I don't know what's wrong, and you don't have to tell me-" her smile was full of sympathy now- "but I just want to let you know that I'm here for you, okay? I'll always be here for you. You're one of my best mates ever. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

I felt tears spring to my eyes- hot tears, but of what I wasn't sure. And for once, I was the one to initiate the hug between us.

Rossalene clutched me tightly as I sobbed in relief into her slender shoulder, wetting her black-and-yellow robes with my tears. No matter how much I brooded or how many secrets I kept or how much I messed up, Ross would be there for me. After all, she was a Hufflepuff, loyal 'til her dying breath, right? And I had no doubt that Brooklyn, Lanie, Shawnee, and the rest of my friends would be, too.

That didn't mean I was telling them.

It was just nice to know that they loved me no matter what.

 _Have I really only known Ross for eight months?_ I thought as we hugged, letting my eyes roam over the walls. _Did we really only meet on the Hogwarts Express here? It feels like so much longer_ -

My eyes stopped on my new clock, ticking softly in the near-silence. 5:20 p.m. Forty minutes to dinner. And it was the moment I'd been born on May 9, 2029.

"I'm turning twelve, Ross," "I whispered.

I turned twelve years old grasping one of my best friends in a tight bear hug, crying relieved and content tears, with cake in my belly and new books on my bookshelf. And as I turned twelve, I made a single wish, pretending that I had just blown out a candle.

 _Let's get this spirit dealt with. Let's take it down._

 _Because then- I think I will be the happiest girl in the world._

* * *

 **See next chapter for notes.**

 **~atrfla**


	18. Chapter 18: Problems with a Mirror

**Whaaaat? Two chapters in one day? How is this possible!?**

 **I felt really bad that I didn't post on Aly's birthday, this past May 9th, when I promised I would- my tablet died and I was left without Internet access for the entire day- so, to make up for it, two chapters today. Hurray!**

* * *

I floated through the next week, high on euphoria and friendship. It was _exactly_ a week in that bubble of happiness, up until May 16th. I had great friends, great new things, and even sort of a mediocre new plan. I figured that if I went back to the Founders' Room (as I had dubbed it) every day after dinner, eventually the room would choose to let me back into the room with the strange silver mirror. I'd been practicing the repairing spell in the common room (some of my fellow students' cats were clumsy and always breaking things anyway, especially Mary and Carrie, so I had a halfway decent excuse), and I was getting pretty good at it. My charms were getting stronger. I was _ready_. With a spot of luck, I'd have the spirit gone in time to ace all of my exams!

Then came the afternoon of the 16th, and my sphere of joy and overconfidence was abruptly popped.

After a free period in the common room that everyone (except for me) used to study for Charms or Defense Against the Dark Arts finals, us Claws as a whole set off to Potions. For being in the dungeons, it was an awfully cheery class, thanks to our wonderful teacher Professor Fourier. When we arrived, however, the door was shut and barred, and it was decently dark in the damp corridor. In the dim torchlight, I spotted a group of Hufflepuff girls huddled together near the wall by the yellow crests on their uniforms.

"Hello?" I squinted at them. "Why aren't you all inside the classroom?"

"It's locked," came Ana's plaintive voice. "And Professor Fourier's not here."

"Maybe he's just late," suggested Jamie, Conor's sibling, in an annoyed tone of voice that suggested that she had said this very thing many times before. I found myself studying her blonde hair and angry features in the half-light. She really did look like Conor. Just- well, a _lot_ less handsome.

"Jamie, how long have you been waiting?" I asked.

She wouldn't meet my eyes, and when she answered, she didn't address it to me. "Will, we've been waiting for about fifteen minutes. Can't you do something already?"

Will took action immediately. "Art, Kevin, come with me. We're going to go find Headmistress McGonagall. The rest of you, stay here and… er… wait, I suppose."

The three boys vanished into the gloom.

Johnny's voice cleared the awkward silence that they left behind with a loud crack of sound. "It's awfully dark in here! Let's turn on a light."

Suddenly, it seemed that everyone's wand flared to brightness. I cowered, covering my green eyes with a hand. We'd learned the wand-lighting charm ( _Lumos_ ) months before, so I was shocked to see the light at the end of some of my classmates' wands flickering, dimming, or even dying. Some people, like Nicole, hadn't even bothered trying to light their wands. I hadn't even extended mine or gotten it out from my robes pocket.

Johnny, standing with Matt and the other three Hufflepuff male first-years, blinked hazel eyes at the sudden flare of light. "That's better!" He high-fived Matt. Headmistress McGonagall had never actually confirmed that they were twins, at least not to us, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that they were brothers. I'd even started noticing similarities between them, beyond their birthday and love of jokes and their shared House. The way they smiled right before their oh-so-similar sharp barks of squealy laughter was the same, for instance. Their eyes sparkled with identical mischievous glints whenever they were planning something unsavory. The ways they moved, the pitches of their voices and the shapes of their eyes, even the way the tops of their ears pointed ever so slightly- it was all the exact same.

I wondered why I hadn't noticed it sooner.

When Headmistress McGonagall returned, tailing Will, Art, and Kevin at the end, she found everyone laughing and chatting in our newfound light, games of competitive Exploding Snap occurring on the floor. Some people were going the less aggressive route, choosing to use their decks to build pyramids or card houses- and by _some people_ , I mean Johnny, Matt, and another Hufflepuff boy named Aleyn Prince. He was very short, with floppy light brown hair and shy eyes. In fact, the whole of him was pretty quiet. He tended to keep to himself, probably because his mum- Chelsea Prince- was a famous Wizarding author, having written one of my favorite childhood books ( _Dobby: The House-Elf Who Sparked a Revolution_ ) as well as a few other historical books and a lot of fairy tales for wizarding children. (Not one of them contained fairies.)

The pyramid had just exploded in Aleyn's face, leaving a sizzling card in his hair, when Headmistress McGonagall cleared her throat. Everyone froze- the only movement in the hallway was the cards from the Hufflepuff boys' pyramid fluttering to the floor, smoking lightly.

"I'm glad you seem to have made yourselves comfortable," she expressed, her eyes roving over the card in Aleyn's hair, the deck in front of Lanie and Shawnee beginning to smolder, the abundance of bright light emitting from wands around the narrow space. "However, I'm going to have to ask you to return to your dormitories. Colm- Professor Fourier- is ill, and there is no one to replace him. This news was posted on the House bulletin boards after lunch, but since they have been… malfunctioning… lately, you must not have gotten the message." She pursed her lips. "I have never taught Potions, else I would substitute. Congratulations, you have just gained a free period."

The cards exploded between Lanie and Shawnee, sending them flying everywhere.

We had just arrived back at Ravenclaw Tower when Helen took a look around our group and asked, "Oi, where's Polly? She was with us at the Potions fiasco."

"Probably off somewhere studying," Millie guessed. "You know how she can't abide noise when she's working. And she never walks anywhere with us anyway."

We shrugged our shoulders and went on into the dormitories to gather our work.

But when Polly didn't show up to Transfiguration (the last class of the day), or dinner for that matter, we got worried. We couldn't go to our Head of House, Professor Fourier, because he was sick. Naturally, then, we took the issue to Professor Longbottom. Cornering him after dinner, we explained that our friend had been missing since earlier that afternoon, and could he help us find her?

Professor Longbottom listened to our concerns with a look on his face that was somewhere between bemused and worried. "All right, girls," he said when we were finished, snagging Professor Gedding by the back of his cheery gold robes as he passed. "We won't bother Minerva unless the problem magnifies, she's already busy enough and doesn't need to worry about a missing student as well. Go back to your dormitory, ladies, and go in a pack- it won't do to wander the corridors aimlessly or get lost yourself. It may not be safe." He shooed us away, in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower, and then hurried off with Professor Gedding, talking to him in low tones- no doubt the grey-haired Head of Gryffindor House was filling the younger professor in on the situation.

We did what he told us and went back to the common room, but only the popular Gryffindor girls slept that night. Melissa, Tamsin, Lyndsay, Shawnee, Lanie, Millie, Helen, and I all stayed up waiting in the commons… waiting… _waiting._

It was one in the morning when there came a knock on the common room door and the soft, melodic voice of the eagle knocker. Shawnee leapt up and hurried to open the door, but the person must have answered the riddle correctly, because the door swung open just as she reached it and nearly bowled her over. Professor Longbottom and Professor Gedding stood there, flanking and towering over a tiny, confused-looking Polly.

We swarmed around her, laughing and crying and hugging the small girl out of sheer worry. At the sight of Lyndsay, Tamsin, and Melissa, Polly's face grew even more bewildered. But she waited until we had thanked the exhausted-looking professors profusely and they had gone, leaving us alone in the commons in the middle of the night, before pointing to the three Gryffindors. "Why are _they_ here?" she whispered.

Lanie's brow creased in puzzlement. "They were worried about you, same as we were. Where were you? It's been nearly twelve hours!"

Polly shook her head. "I don't know. The last thing I remember is climbing up a staircase after Potions… why's it night?"

"A staircase?" Shawnee wondered, ignoring the last question, or maybe just not hearing it.

"It must'ae disappeared," Lyndsay realized.

"And you're not injured at all?" Tamsin chimed in with an incredulous chuckle. "What luck, mate!"

My mind flashed to the spirit instantly. _Why didn't it hurt Polly? Not that I'm complaining, of course…_

I shook it off and decided to accept our sheer luck. _Maybe it's frightened by me_ , I mused as we escorted Polly up the stairs to our dormitory, us Ravenclaws, Gryffindors and the wall paintings alike all exclaiming over the blessing that was her health. _Maybe it knows I'm coming for it, so it's slacking off on its attack in the hopes I won't go after it!_

I crashed into something- Polly. She'd stopped short just inside the room, causing a pileup in the doorway.

"What is it?" Helen complained crossly, shaking her hair back from her face. "I'm tired, and I want my beauty sleep already."

Polly frowned. "There are too many beds in here," she stated, voice quavering.

"Well, yeah," I said, frowning at her. "There are fifteen of us, but symmetry's important, of course, so they put in sixteen and there's just an extra bed."

"No, I mean-" Polly shook her head, messing up her thin brown hair. "Why are there _sixteen_ beds instead of, you know, six?"

"The Gryffindors moved in after the whole Fat Lady and Sir Cadogan problem, remember?" Lanie comforted, mouthing the word _shock_ in the dim torchlight to the rest of us. "Your bed's that one, between Millie's and that empty bed Aly was talking about earlier. Why don't you just go get some sleep? You'll feel much better in the morning."

Our tiny friend moved, as if in a trance, to the bed that Lanie had indicated. She pulled the bedcurtains around her space, most likely readying for bed, and the remainder of us gratefully and tiredly followed her example.

The next morning, I had the _worst_ bags under my eyes, so dark and ingrained into my skin. I rubbed slowly at them in the loo, and Lea offered me her powder makeup to hide them- "Or, well, at least _try_ , Aly!"- but I declined.

Our first class, after breakfast of course, was Astronomy, since our class from two nights before had been canceled due to thunderstorms. Polly almost went right off to History of Magic, which was our typical morning class on Tuesdays, but luckily Shawnee was there to grab her wrist and remind her that it was Wednesday.

In Astronomy, we were discussing Saturn's rings when Polly leaned over to whisper in my ear. "I thought we were reviewing our notes about Mars and Jupiter's red spot! Why are we doing a lesson on Saturn?"

I shot her a confused look. "We stopped doing that a week ago because it's so close to exams and we hadn't talked about Saturn yet. Are you sure you're all right, Polly?"

She sighed, leaning back in the chair that swamped her tiny frame and massaging her temples with slender fingers. "I think so."

Three days later on Saturday morning, Polly slept in, but the rest of us Ravenclaw girls got up early to discuss her. Ever since the small girl's eleven-hour disappearance, she'd been acting very, _very_ strange.

"Seems like she's just forgotten the last two weeks, by the looks of it," Millie groaned. She nudged Shawnee to ask for her contribution, but our stocky friend's dark head was listing to the side, and her black eyes were staring off into space. Another abyss of thought for our Shawnee.

"It's amnesia," Lanie guessed. "It must be. Is there a Wizarding cure for that?"

"There's probably some potion or plant," I suggested, flipping through _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One_ and Arsenius Jigger's _Magical Drafts and Potions_ at the same time. "All I can find are mentions of the Memory Charm and the Forgetfulness Potion, both of which only make people _forget_ stuff."

"St. Mungo's could help her, I bet," Helen said matter-of-factly.

"Or lock her up in a ward and never let her out," Millie retorted. "The fact that Aly's not finding anything means that this is _terribly_ rare, and since it's another one of the 'Hogwarts cases' from this year they could just treat her like a specimen instead."

"I don't think St. Mungo's operates like that," I interjected.

Millie sighed. " _Two_ students in St. Mungo's- my parents are already worried. They would pull me out of Hogwarts for sure, and for who knows how long!"

Lanie nodded her head in agreement. "What about Madam Pomfrey? Maybe she'll know something of use."

"You _know_ she'd sent her straight to St. Mungo's," Helen pointed out. "So if you're opposed to that, it's perhaps not the best choice."

"Okay, so telling an adult is out," I decided with a shrug. "Maybe we just… try to catch her up on what she missed?"

"Oh sure, _that'll_ work," Helen snapped, her voice practically dripping with sarcasm. "Here, Polly, we're just going to _tell_ you about the last two weeks of your life that you've forgotten, and that's only the parts we know, instead of helping you get back those memories! Oh, wait, you didn't _know_ you were an amnesiac?" She lapsed back into her normal voice and frowned at me. "Sure. _Great_ idea, Aly."

"Why are you so cranky this morning?" I said, taken aback.

"No, Aly, Helen's got a decent thing going here," Millie agreed softly. "We really can't do anything ourselves, so maybe we just don't do anything."

"Don't do anything about what?" Polly's voice asked sleepily from behind us. We whirled to see her half-hidden behind the bust of Rowena Ravenclaw near the door to the dormitories, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "And why are you all up so early? No one's up, and it's still dark out."

Lanie pointed to the window. "The sun's rising now."

We looked, and sure enough, the dark sky was lightening. Breakfast would be starting soon, if it hadn't already begun being served.

"We're not the only ones up," Helen added. "I can hear people stomping around in the boys' dorms."

Elysa poked her head through the door behind Polly, firmly cementing Helen's argument, her hair falling in perfect spirals around her face despite the fact that she probably hadn't been awake for much longer than a minute or two. "Hey, there you are! Have any of you seen Lorie?"

We shook our heads.

"She's a sleepwalker," Lea announced, bustling up behind Elysa and shoving through the door into view. "She's not in any of the other dorms, either. She probably sleepwalked right out of the common room if she's not in here- it wouldn't be the first time."

"Search party?" Lanie suggested, jumping up from her chair and pulling a still-thinking Shawnee up with her.

"Sounds good," Lea agreed. "We ought to get ready first, though. I can't go out looking like _this!_ "

She disappeared back into the hallway with the staircase, Elysa trailing after her.

Shawnee woke up and exchanged glances with Lanie. The Gryffindor group could take forever to 'get ready'. Still, we followed them back to the dormitory with matching sighs.

Fifteen minutes later, we were pushing open the heavy Ravenclaw door and climbing down the spiral staircase out of the commons. It was a record for the Gryffindors- normally it took Lea at least half an hour to apply her powder makeup and primp her hair _just right_ (and Elysa was _worse_ , if such a thing can be imagined). We all paired off- Lyndsay and Lanie went off to search the dungeons, Shawnee and Melissa the first floor, Lea and Millie the second and third floors, Helen and Elysa the fourth and fifth floors, Tamsin and I the sixth and seventh, Polly and Liana the eighth floor and Astronomy/Divination towers, and Sami and Juliet, the other common rooms. I jumped at the chance to search the seventh floor- not that I wasn't worried for Lorie, but it would give me an excuse to check the Founders' Room.

Tamsin and I searched high and low for Lorie on the sixth floor- in every corner, classroom, and crevice. There was simply no trace of her. Finally, we ascended to the seventh floor, and I strategically made my way up and down the corridor, looking for Lorie of course, but also keeping an eye out for the Founders' Room door. It had just appeared and I was approaching it with caution when Juliet ran into the corridor.

"Aly! Tamsin!" she panted. "Thank Godric we found you- I thought we might've had more missing people on our hands!"

I was already reaching for the doorknob. "Nope. We're just fine. Just looking for Lorie-"

Juliet seized my other arm. "But Helen and Elysa found her on one of the moving staircases in the fourth-floor corridor! The emergency's over. She's in the hospital wing."

A feeling of dread crept over me, and I foolishly allowed Juliet to drag me away from the Founders' Room.

"What's wrong with her?" Tamsin asked, bouncing after us like she had springs attached to her feet.

"Another staircase accident?" I asked quietly.

Juliet nodded, a smile breaking over her face. "She'll be fine, though! She just lost all of the bones in her right leg. Poof- gone!"

I gasped, but she continued to speak. "Madam Pomfrey dosed her with Skele-Gro, which is apparently some amazing stuff, and shooed us all out."

"Who else was there?" Tamsin inquired.

"Just me, Sami, Elysa, and Helen. We're to go back to the common room now, but we thought we'd best find you all first!"

"Smart," I said dumbly. Not only had I not gotten a chance to fix the spirit mirror in the Founders' Room, Lorie had also lost all of the bones in her leg.

 _That must be extremely horrible. Poor Lorie._

And with that, my fears and worries about the spirit mirror returned.

 _It gave Polly two weeks' worth of amnesia. It took all of the bones out of Lorie's leg and left her helpless._

 _It's not slacking off._

 _It's getting worse._

* * *

 **Long chapter today! I hope you guys enjoyed it.**

 **In other news, next week will start the climax, so that's fun!**

 **We've only got a few chapters left on** ** _First Year_** **, and then it's on to the middle story of my** ** _Salinger Year_** **series- the fourth,** ** _Second Year!_** **I've already started writing it, and it's a blast. You're going to love it.**

 **As usual, please don't forget to review in the box below! Predictions, comments, aggravations- it's all welcome in that review box.**

 **~atrfla**


	19. Chapter 19: Swords and Suits of Armor

**As I promised-**

I didn't get a chance to visit the Founders' Room at all in the next week. Exams were set to take place the following week, which was the last week of May. I was studying like mad, elated by the fact that my first year at Hogwarts was almost over. To be honest, the spirit mirror kind of slipped my mind during classes. Only when people got injured, or when Rossalene found the Fat Lady in an empty classroom on the second floor and the Gryffindors got to move back to their own dorm, did it occur to me that finding that mirror- and defeating it- was of the utmost importance.

If I didn't do so, there might not _be_ a Hogwarts to return to in September.

On Friday morning, however, all sense of order dissolved- and the mirror became the first thing on my mind.

On my way to Astronomy- the last class before our exam next Tuesday- I found my path blocked by a suit of armor. They'd been acting up more and more over the past few weeks, and this one was stopping not only me but the entire flow of traffic in the corridor from getting to class. I stepped to the side- he followed me. I stepped to the other side, and once again the mindless grey armor followed me. I tried to duck under him; he brought his arm down, blocking my way. Finally, frustrated, I shoved at the suit of armor. It (he?) stumbled backwards, smashing into another suit of armor that was terrorizing a different group of students with a loud _clang_. And then all hell broke loose.

Every suit of armor in seemingly the castle- _definitely_ in our immediate vicinity- came to life, charging students all over the hall with swords drawn, slashing. I ran to get out of the way of our own attacker, dragging my classmates along with me. Screams of horror echoed in my ears as everyone fled for cover. It was like a warzone, a battle! Overcome by the shock of it all, I hunched in a nearby alcove with Lanie, Shawnee, and Brooklyn, the last of whom was actually heading to Potions, not Astronomy, but had decided to walk with us part of the way from Charms. Rossalene had simply vanished.

I scanned the hall for her, but no luck.

"What in the name of Merlin's pants?" Brooklyn shouted over the sudden din.

"What brought this on?" Lanie murmured in my ear. "Suddenly it's like they're determined to exterminate us all!"

A suit of armor clunked by our hiding spot as fast as it could, chasing a fleeing Hufflepuff second-year.

In my stomach, I felt a sinking feeling at Lanie's words. The spirit had been waging a war on us, on Hogwarts, the entire year. Now they were determined to end it, to finish us, in this final battle. And it was, once again, completely my doing.

Out of the blue there came a very loud yell- almost like a battle cry.

" _Gryffindooooooooooooooooooooooorrrrr!_ " a familiar voice bellowed, and there was a deafening clash of metal on metal outside.

"What in the name of Merlin's pants?" Shawnee parroted.

There was another moment or three in which the air was full of the sounds of war, and then silence, except for the panting of my friends and my own heavy breaths. I unplugged my ears- I hadn't even realized I'd covered them- and glanced up as a shadow fell over me.

Above me stood a boy in Gryffindor robes. He had mussed caramel-colored hair, and his blue-green eyes were sparkling with mischief and mayhem. An English oak wand stuck out of the left outside pocket of his robes. In his right hand, he gripped a rusting and slightly dented silver sword with all the confidence of a trained swordsman.

"Glad to see me?" asked Nick Justice.

He helped me up, and then Shawnee. Tommy Wood behind him, who also carried a nearly identical sword, yanked Lanie and Brooklyn to their feet.

I spluttered in shock. "Nic- wha- how-"

He grinned and seemed to be about to launch into a spiel, but Tommy cut in. "The knights have swords. The knights went loony. So, we took the swords."

"Turns out swords are a bit more effective than first-year spells against suits of armor that've gone mad," said another voice from behind me. I turned my head to see Conor Mathieson wipe his sword semi-clean of rust with a fistful of his robes. My heart fluttered, and I turned to fully face him. "If you cut 'em up enough, they can't move to attack you no matter how insane they are. Plus, these swords are really sharp." He let go of his robes, letting them fall back into place and revealing a clean slit in the fabric. "See?"

"I want a sword," Brooklyn complained.

Conor picked one up off of a nearby knight's parts (they were still twitching and moving about, but Conor was right- cut up, they were fairly useless at attacking us) and handed it to her.

Brooklyn's eyes glowed. She took a few practice swings, nearly cutting off Tommy's ear with her last one. He responded with a parry just in time, and soon the blonde boy and my best friend were duelling in the hall.

Nick tried to offer me one. I shook my head. "No. I know how to stop all of these suits of armor at once, and it doesn't involve cutting them up one by one with a sword."

He frowned at me. "It's chaos outside of this corridor. You can't leave without a weapon. You'll be sliced to bits."

I shook my head more fiercely, curls whipping around my eyes. "I need to!"

He sighed. "Where do you need to go so badly?"

"The seventh-floor corridor."

Nick opened his mouth, most likely to object, but then he got a good glance at my steely green eyes and wearily gave up with a half-arrogant smirk. "I can't stop you, can I, Lyss?"

"No."

In a childish gesture, the boy stuck his tongue out at me. _He's_ such _a Gryffindor._ "Fine! But you won't survive a second out there without the best guard you can get. One who's actually carrying a _weapon._ "

I glanced at Brooklyn, who had already disarmed Tommy and was on the verge of beating both Conor and Marshall, who had also appeared with a sword, at the same time. "Obviously. Come on, Brooklyn, let's-"

There was a ring of steel, and Brooklyn's sword flew from her hand, clattering on the floor beneath us. Tommy leapt up into the air to avoid getting it stuck in one of his feet. My cousin immediately turned and socked Nick, who had disarmed her, in the stomach. Although Nick doubled over, his face turning maroon, his smile had turned into one of full-blown cockiness. Once he had regained his breath, he quirked an eyebrow at me and panted, "Come on, Lyss, let's go."

Out of the alcove, in the corridor, it was nearly deserted. A few students were arming themselves with swords, encouraged by other first-year Gryffindors like Lyndsay; they were preparing to escort wounded students (of which there were several) to the hospital wing, knowing full well they would have to fight their way there. Lyndsay turned from handing a dented and half-bent sword to a Hufflepuff second-year, the same girl I'd seen being chased by a suit of armor earlier, and spotted Nick, followed by me. "Aly! Nice tae see ye. This whole thin's just crazy, en't it?"

Her thick brogue was so familiar in this strange place of war that Hogwarts had become, I nearly cried. As it was, I moved toward her to hug her- but Nick tugged me away, and we ran up a staircase and began our fight to the seventh-floor corridor three floors above.

I have to admit that Nick was a good fighter- I would be lying if I said he wasn't. He plowed through suit of armor after suit of armor with ease, showing off excellent reflexes and sword-fighting skills as he ducked and dodged and slashed and stabbed. Wondering if he had perhaps had training in the past, I followed close behind him with my wand out as he cleared a path up to the seventh-floor corridor. Eventually, however, I was forced to grab a sword from one of Nick's metal victims to defend myself properly from attackers who came from the back. After all, as Conor had said, first-year charms were practically useless against furious anthropomorphic metal beings. I wasn't nearly as skilled or agile as Nick or Brooklyn, but I still managed to take down a few suits of armor who tried to take me from behind by simply swinging my sword in a wild manner and getting very, very lucky. A wounded Gryffindor fifth-year who sat propped up against a wall in the fifth-floor corridor, tended by a fourth-year Slytherin and defended by a seventh-year Ravenclaw I vaguely recognized from the common room, yelled out at Nick and me as we passed. "Bloody first-years, playing at swords! Can't you see this is a crisis?"

I felt a strong urge to slam the flat part of my blade against his thick head. I contented myself with muttering out of the side of my mouth to Nick, "He has no idea."

Nick cut through the last suit of armor in the corridor. He looked worried as we charged up a moving staircase that was eerily clear of suits of armor, which was a change from his usual egotism. "Lyss- does this have anything to do with that odd Gryffindor room from the beginning of the year?"

I pushed past him, dodging a lone knight as I skipped the sixth-floor corridor and headed straight for the staircase that would lead me right to the seventh-floor one. "No time- we're almost there!"

Nick followed me, slicing off the knight's limbs with a few quick, easy strokes and shouting, "I asked people about that room, Salinger. I did my research! Do you even know how to get in?"

I stopped short before my foot hit the first stair. "W- _What?_ "

"That room, the Gryffindor one," he said, somewhat placatingly, although still with an I'm-smarter-than-you-slash-slightly-angry glint in his eyes. "It took some research, but it's officially called the Room of Requirement or the Come-and-Go Room, and it changes to suit your needs at the time you seek it. You have to walk by the door three times thinking _exactly_ what you want, and only then will it open to you."

I added this information in to what I knew about the Founders' Room, and yes, this actually all made sense. I was tempted to dash off that instant and utilize my newfound knowledge to the best of my ability, but I was a Ravenclaw at heart, and I had questions that needed answers. "H-how did you find _that_ out?"

Nick had questions of his own. "Why do you need to get there so badly?"

We stared each other down for a second, my green gaze staring down into his turquoise one, before I blinked, broke the moment, and shook my head. "I can't tell you that."

I made as if to turn and leave.

He let out a frustrated sigh and threw up his arms. "Fine! I asked the house-elves, you know, in the kitchen. They always know the secrets of Hogwarts. Now- _tell me why!_ "

I wasn't going to tell him the whole story, obviously. By Rowena's diadem, I wasn't going to tell _anyone_ the whole story, let alone annoying, arrogant Nicholas Justice. But I reluctantly dropped my gaze to the floor and gave him the short version, letting my eyes drift up to meet his. Picking at one of my unkempt fingernails, I said quietly, "There's a spirit loose in Hogwarts that's trying to destroy it. It's my fault it's free. And I know how to stop it, I think."

It took a moment for that to sink into his eyes, and when we looked at each other, his were full of understanding and- was that sympathy? I bristled, but instead of barraging me with questions like a Ravenclaw would have or comforting me like a Hufflepuff or even trying to create a concrete plan like a Slytherin, the Gryffindor boy just shrugged. "All right, Lyss. Best come on, then."

The moment we burst into the seventh-floor corridor, pandemonium ensued. We were instantly attacked from all sides in blurs of flashing blades. Nick and I, along with two trapped Hufflepuff seventh-year girls who had already been in the corridor, were the only humans in sight. The girls had swords but were penned in by clanging, raging suits of armor; no one had come to their rescues yet. Nick and I (mostly Nick) solved that, jumping into the fray with swords swinging. There seemed to be a lot more enemies on this floor than on the others, but between the four of us we managed to clear a small area in front of where the door to the Founders' Room- the "Room of Requirement", if Nick's sources were to be believed- would appear. The three of them held the perimeter, although Nick had to save the girls once or twice. I walked back and forth three times, thinking hard a single stanza:

 _I need to fix the spirit mirror. I need to fix the spirit mirror. I need to fix the spirit mirror. I need to fix the spirit mirror. I need to fix the spirit-_

Nothing happened. I tried a different tactic instead.

 _I need to end the battle. I need to end the battle. I need to end the battle…_

Nick shouted something, and I opened my eyes, not knowing when I'd closed them in such fear. There in front of me was the dark wooden door that hopefully led to the spirit mirror. I glanced behind me and, for the first time in my short life, felt the urge to let loose a stream of _real_ Wizarding curse words. One of the Hufflepuff girls, tall and pale with bright red hair and freckles all down her neck and arms, had been stabbed in the stomach. She lay helplessly on the other side of the corridor, her robes soaked in crimson blood that matched the hair spilling from her head. The other girl, who was short and stocky with caramel-colored skin and hair darker than her black robes, stood over her friend and defended her with frenzied slashes. But her strokes were slowing down… and the knights were closing in. My eyes flickered to Nick.

He was protecting me all on his own now, bleeding from at least half a dozen small cuts all over his arms and body. He had shed his robes, throwing them at two suits of armor who had become hopelessly entangled and crashed to the floor. Sadly, although his robes had probably hindered his movements some, they had also provided a thick layer of protection from the too-sharp swords. Now Nick's uniform shirt, white and pressed and oh-so-thin, was the only thing shielding his torso from the blades that surrounded him. He glanced to me and saw me staring. We both grimaced- he most likely because I was just standing there, but I because he had a long cut over his right eye that was pouring vermilion blood into his vision. "What are you doing, Lyss? The door's there! Go!"

Gripping my sword tightly, I slashed at a suit of armor that had been about to stab him in the side. "That's stupid- you're about to be massacred! I can't leave you!"

He laughed, and although the sound was hollow, his next words were as conceited as ever. "I can fight better than any other first-year in this school! They won't hurt me!"

I parried and thrust my sword into yet another enemy, chopping its sword arm off. The empty metal clattered to the floor, and I swung, cutting the suit of armor in two like it was a stick of butter. These swords really _were_ too sharp. "You're an idiot!"

He grinned madly at me, his eyes glinting in the bright light. "No- I'm a Gryffindor! You should know by now that bravery and foolishness are often the same thing! Now go, Aly, before you're killed!"

If bravery and foolishness were the same thing, so were intelligence and cowardice. I turned and scurried through the door, not letting myself let go of my sword. As it closed behind me, I heard Nick scream an unintelligible battle cry as he threw himself into battle.

He may not have thought I'd heard him, but it hadn't escaped my notice that for the first time, he hadn't called me Lyss. Instead, the boy whom I could now easily call my friend… he'd called me Aly.

 **I had this all ready to post Friday, and I completely forgot yesterday. Well, it's here now.**

 **Some serious Justalinger in this chapter! Writing this ship platonically is one of my favorite things to do, can't you tell?**

 **Please don't forget to leave a review in that review box below! Let me know what you thought of this chapter, and what your predictions are for the next one!**

 **~atrfla**


	20. Chapter 20: Green Slime, Part II

I had been raised a good child. I never swore. _Never._ But when I turned my attention to my surroundings, I let loose a stream of expletives that would have made my mum use the Silencing Charm on me for the remainder of my probably very short life. I wasn't in the room with the spirit mirror. The room I _was_ in was very narrow- if I reached out my hands to the sides, I could touch walls on either side of me with ease. It was also nearly completely dark. Something light- white marble- gleamed just ahead. I pulled out my wand, transferring my sword to my other hand, and hesitantly whispered " _Lumos solem_."

A bright stream of light burst out of my wand. I shined it on the white marble and nearly blinded myself with its reflection.

The Slytherin mirror was as gargantuan as the Gryffindor one, perhaps even larger. The glass was tinted an ugly dark green, and the mirror was surrounded by thousands of tiny, delicate snakes woven together, carved intricately out of white marble. The carvings were inlaid with silver, and each tiny stone snake had two sparkling emeralds for eyes. The jewels flashed as I shined the beam over them; then, obviously, my gaze returned to my reflection.

Slytherin Aly looked cool and collected, eyes greener then ever, a sly Nick-esque smirk upon her lips. She looked like a leader, her hair not messy and disheveled but perfectly in place instead, her eyelashes thick and one slender brow raised. It took my breath away. So powerful, so in charge… I could _never_ look like that.

I shook off my curiosity. I was still furious. Ripping my eyes from my Slytherin reflection, I kicked the wall and shouted, "I don't need this! I need the spirit mirror!"

I swung my sword at the mirror in a fit of rage, but then there was a hiss and a flash of silver light, and I was knocked backwards onto my back. Pain slammed into my body with the cold floor, and my eyes fluttered shut. That was going to leave a _serious_ mark.

When I managed to regain my footing and open my eyes, the room looked very different- I was in the room with the spirit mirror! My head was aching and I felt woozy, but on the floor in front of me was the sword and my wand. I snatched the cedar stick up, grateful that it hadn't snapped, before my gaze fell on the sword. I scooped it up, examining it.

The sword was not the same, either.

In the groove on the no longer rusty blade, there was nestled one of the white marble snakes from the Slytherin mirror, fitting perfectly there in that little channel. The hilt had turned a glossy black, just like the floor from the Hufflepuff room. Set into that hilt was a small bronze flower, like the one that had decorated the top of the Ravenclaw mirror. The entire weapon, shining grey, had begun to pulse with a soft red light.

"You have proven yourself worthy," said a soft voice beside me.

I jumped, startled, and on a reflex swung my sword. It passed right through the transparent woman who floated next to me. She had very long, very thin dark hair, was quite tall, and had sad grey eyes that studied me with a curious spark. She carried herself haughtily, but calmly, as if she knew exactly who she was but it almost pained her. Her floor-length cloak and old-fashioned dress whispered softly, and her lips drew together in a distressed but at the same time proud smile.

I gasped. I'd only seen her once or twice, which was more than most of the population of Hogwarts could say, since I was a Ravenclaw. "The- the Grey Lady!"

"Helena," the woman corrected me quietly. "You have proven yourself worthy to all four founders, Alyssa."

I glanced reverently at the sword I now held and stuck my wand in my pocket. "You mean…"

"The spirits of all four have chosen you to be your champion, to save Hogwarts." She brushed ghostly fingers over the sword, which was still glowing red, but brighter now. "Godric Gryffindor." She touched the hilt. "Helga Hufflepuff." The snake. "Salazar Slytherin." And finally, her pointer finger came to rest on the shimmering bronze flower. "And Rowena. Rowena Ravenclaw."

Her tone was bitter, almost.

"What's wrong with Rowena Ravenclaw?" I demanded. "Aren't you Ravenclaw's ghost? Shouldn't you be proud?"

Helena turned her head away. I almost didn't catch her words, but- _almost_. "She… she was my mother. You understand."

My vision blurred as I stared at a flesh-and-blood Ravenclaw- well, not really flesh and blood, but you get what I mean. "W- w- wha- no, I don't- _what?_ "

She shook her dark head. "There is little time left to explain, Alyssa, and truth be told I do not wish to tell. Your friend, the boy…"

I straightened instantly and tried to grab her arm with my free hand, but of course my fingers simply passed through her limb. "Nick? Is he all right?"

"He will die soon," the Grey Lady- _Helena Ravenclaw, she's actually the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw, Merlin's beard I can't believe this_ \- warned. "They will overwhelm him, the suits of armor. They are possessed by a spirit, but this you already know- a spirit that hates the founders four and their precious Hogwarts, a spirit that will attempt to bring it down stone by stone upon us all." Her face hardened. "I would trap this spirit back in its mirror myself, like my mother did so many years ago with her fellow founders. But alas, it is a job that can be done only by the living." She gestured to the sword. "Make haste now. Touch the founders' blade to the mirror, or all will be lost."

My eyes flicked from her to the sword. "I just… touch it… to the mirror? That's it?"

I looked back up, hoping to see Helena Ravenclaw nodding sagely, dispensing more wisdom for me. But no- the ghost had utterly vanished, as quickly as she'd appeared.

I turned the sword around so that the side with the snake and the flower was turned away from the mirror, and towards me. Raising the sword so that I was staring straight at the decorated side of the flat of the blade, I gently pushed the sword into the cracked mirror that was completely covered in the bubbling, oozing green slime.

The instant the blade touched the glass, the sword was torn out of my hands. I gasped. It stuck to the mirror like it had been hit by a Permanent Sticking Charm, and the mirror retaliated. It shook with a violent scream, a high-pitched note, so high I felt my ears pop, and then it went so high I could barely even hear its raging voice. I raised my hand to a throbbing ear, and my fingertips came away wet. They were covered in blood.

Wind started to blow through the small room, violent gusts of air that buffeted me around like Mary and Carrie with the black rats from the beginning of the year- rats that I now realized had been Grims of a sort, a forewarning of what had been to come. I fell to my bare knees and covered my bleeding ears, glancing up at the mirror with pleading eyes.

I couldn't believe what I saw.

The green slime was shrinking back into the mirror's crack at an alarming rate. The sword was still just hanging there, doing its work. As I watched, the last of the slime slurped into the crack, and the mirror shrieked one piercing final note.

The snake in the groove on the sword turned around and stared at me with its emerald eyes. For a split second, I could've sworn it winked at me. But who knows? It was all happening too fast.

And then, just as quickly, the wind stopped, the screaming stopped, and both mirror and sword vanished in a flash of silver light.

 **A little late today, but hey, still on time!**

 **As you might have seen on my profile, _First Year_ is shaping up to end with a stunning total of 22 chapters, just like the first story of the series, _Fifth Year!_ That means we only have two chapters after this to wrap this up before we go on to _Second Year!_**

 **I hope you guys have enjoyed the thrill ride of** ** _First Year_** **, because we've only got one or two more action-packed chapters to go!**

 **Remember to review, please!**

 **~atrfla**


	21. Chapter 21: The Aftermath

I stumbled out into the hallway, hands still clapped to the sides of my head. My legs were weak and wobbly- I felt like I had been cursed with a Jelly-Legs Jinx. Outside, in the corridor, I found myself surrounded by collapsed suits of armor and pieces of metal that had been sliced up with something very, very sharp. I had a feeling I knew exactly what.

The two Hufflepuff girls, I discovered as I glanced about and peeled my fingers from my ears, were gone.

Where was Nick?

 _There._

A pool of very red, distinctly _human_ liquid was seeping out from under a pile of crumpled enemies. The tail of a red-soaked sleeve peeked out from under a silver gauntlet.

Hastily, I shoved armor off of my friend. The Grey Lady had been right- with those cuts, with those horrible gashes all over his body, he was most definitely dying. I tried to help him up, but I was already weak and dizzy, and I just collapsed on top of him instead. His robes were still tangled in the limbs of that one unmoving knight, so I ripped off my own and tried to use the fabric to staunch his bleeding.

Hopefully, someone would eventually come. I could barely walk. There was no way I could go fetch anyone myself.

I wrapped the robes more tightly around Nick's body, hoping they wouldn't end up being used as his shroud, and wished as hard as I could that someone would stumble into the corridor and _help us._

I waited.

And I waited.

It took only one hundred and twenty-eight seconds for two sixth-year Ravenclaw boys, unharmed and strong, to burst into the corridor. Trailing after them was a misty lady of white, one I recognized very, very well.

Just before my eyes fluttered shut, I saw the Grey Lady incline her head and briefly smile at me. Then there was the sensation of sturdy hands lifting me up and everything went black.

I took me three hours to be released from the hospital wing.

It took Nick three days.

In the meantime, a ceremony was held in the gardens to award trophies and medals to the heroes of the Battle of the Knights (as the rest of the students had dubbed it and the teachers reluctantly called it). Nick hadn't told anyone that all of the accidents had been my fault or that I'd been the one to end it all, nor had Helena Ravenclaw, and I wasn't about to tell anyone myself. So I just attended as a spectator, but that was fine. Headmistress McGonagall, along with Professor Damien, bestowed trophies upon- to name a few- Tommy, Lyndsay, Will, Nick, Brooklyn, and Holly (the girl from Valentine's Day, the one who'd talked to Brooklyn and me about Ancient Runes) for leading charges against the enemies. They also gave medals to a large group of fourth-years, including Vincent Winters, for saving groups of younger students from rogue staircases, paintings, and suits of armor. It was a beautiful ceremony, with sunlight streaming down from the heavens and birds singing (or perhaps screeching) from the Forbidden Forest; but what was not so beautiful was what happened afterwards.

I was walking off with Brooklyn, admiring her shiny golden trophy (that would later be put in the trophy room) and praising her skills with a sword, when I felt an ice-cold hand on my arm.

I turned- it was none other than Grace Liu, accompanied by blonde, hostile-eyed Jamie. Both wore identical calculating smirks and narrowed eyes.

I shuddered through a frown.

"What's wrong?" Brooklyn snapped at her Asian roommate.

"Can we talk to you for a second?" Grace said to me, completely ignoring Brooklyn.

I folded my arms, forcing the Slytherin girl to let go of me. "Sure. What about?"

Jamie cast a pointed glance at Brooklyn. " _Alone?_ " she ordered bossily.

For a moment I thought Brooklyn was going to whip out her ebony wand and hex the small Hufflepuff girl, but instead my cousin just rolled her eyes, huffed, turned, and hurried away to catch up with Rossalene and Lyndsay. They were walking ahead, and I watched my friends wistfully, already slightly afraid of what my human enemies were going to say or do.

I whirled back to Jamie and Grace. I didn't like being alone with them, not one little bit. The look on Jamie's face grew positively murderous with each step that Brooklyn took away from us.

Grace looped her arm through mine, an obviously faux friendliness coming to her surface. "Don't worry, Aly. We heard a rumor," she chirped slyly, "and we just wanted to make sure it wasn't true!"

My sense of uneasiness began to spread. I tried to match Grace's false cheeriness. "What rumor?"

Grace shrugged, carefree, and said, "That you like Conor." At my stunned expression, her face grew dark. "You don't… _right?_ "

Jamie stepped up and got right in my face, despite being quite a bit shorter than me. She still managed to intimidate me just fine. "Listen here, Alyssa," the Hufflepuff hissed through clenched teeth. "Conor doesn't like you and he never will. So you need to back off. I _know_ it was you who sent him that card on Valentine's Day- he ripped it up and threw it away. I won't let you date him, _ever_. And if you don't take my advice and bugger off, I can promise you that we will both make your life totally miserable."

Her eyes were like storm clouds glaring me down, and I tried to meet her gaze with bravery and coolness.

"Got it?"

Despite how much that idea of being socially tortured by Jamie Mathieson and Grace Liu frightened me, I did my best not to let it show. Ripping my arm out of Grace's grasp, I glared right back at Jamie. "I'll kindly ask _you_ to butt out of my love life. I can fancy whoever I like, thank you very much, and it's none of your business!"

Then I broke into a run, sprinting towards the castle. I had to catch up with Brooklyn.

However, I didn't manage to catch up with her until the next Saturday due to exams. The last Quidditch game of the year- Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw- had been scheduled for the weekend before exam week, but due to the Battle of the Knights, it had been postponed a week. If Gryffindor won, they would take the Quidditch Cup for the year. It was the most prized Quidditch award anyone could get at Hogwarts. If Ravenclaw won, however, by only sixty points- the Cup would be theirs, _ours_. (I asked Kitty for the exact count before the match.)

As I climbed into the stands before the game started, I spotted Brooklyn sitting with Lanie and Millie in the Ravenclaw section and headed over to sit with them. My best friend wore her Slytherin uniform, as usual, but there was a Ravenclaw scarf knotted around her neck. Most likely, it was Lanie's. The trio of friends waved me over.

It took a little persuading to convince my cousin to move away from the rest of our friends, but when Rossalene and Helen showed up and the conversation turned to the handsome seventh-year Gryffindor Seeker, Brooklyn was only too happy to move away. I related the whole tale to her, beginning before we even sat down. By the time I had finished, both teams were on the field and the Captains were shaking hands. Brooklyn's mouth had fallen open about halfway through my story, and she playfully punched me in the arm when I finally closed my lips. "Good for you, Aly! Way to stand up for yourself! Grace and Jamie are just bullies." Her expression grew worried. "That's not good that they know you fancy Conor, though. Grace must have seen the flyer in the Slytherin commons before I could take it down after all."

I'd completely forgotten about that, despite the flyer being stuffed in the bottom of my bag. "Oh no…"

Brooklyn shrugged. "Listen, don't let them get to you. If Conor fancies you too, nothing his sister says or do will change that. You have to be you, Aly."

I hugged her gratefully in a flurry of arms and scarves. "Thanks, Brooklyn."

She received my tackle hug gracefully and laughed in bewilderment. "For what?"

I grasped her more tightly as the whistle of Sir Sutherland blew, signaling the start of the match. "Just for… oh, I don't know, being there."

She snorted in a rather unladylike manner. I couldn't help but remember our spat in the winter, but we weren't fighting now. "Pfft. I'm _always_ here for you!"

I opened my mouth to question the legitimacy of that statement, but someone cleared their throat behind us in that moment and said, "Uh, Aly?"

I stopped embracing my eldest cousin and looked up.

Nick wore a white sling wrapped around his left arm, and the end of the Gryffindor scarf that was coiled around his neck dangled right in the middle of the white fabric. That was lucky because it prevented me from going blind staring at the stark, bright sling.

Brooklyn muttered something about "leaving you two to talk"- the remainder of her sentence was drowned out by the cheers that exploded all around us as Ravenclaw scored the first goal of the game. Of course, it was by Kitty.

My friend scurried away to rejoin our other pack of friends, and Nick sat next to me on the mostly empty bleacher. "You and Brooklyn are really close, huh?" he asked loudly, ignoring the dying roars of Ravenclaw pride. "Hard to believe you've only known each other for nine or ten months. Looking at you just now, I almost thought you'd been friends for years."

The typical annoyance I felt around Nick instantly returned. I rolled my eyes. Could he get any more ignorant? "We're cousins, you twit," I shouted.

His face turned red, the color splashing across his tan cheeks. "Oh- I didn't know that."

"Obviously."

We sat in silence while the Quaffle went from Ravenclaw to Gryffindor back to Ravenclaw again. Then Nick cleared his throat and faced me, all traces of his usual arrogance gone. Was he blushing? He _was!_ Was he stuttering? _He was!_

"I- I just wanted to thank you," he managed at last. "I don't know what you- what you did, but- well, whatever it was, you saved my life." He took a deep breath. "I know I've been kind of a prat this year, but in fairness, you've been a twat right back."

I opened my mouth to protest. I wasn't a _twat!_ \- but Nick cut me off. "What do you say, Aly? Truce?"

I looked down at his free hand, outstretched in a peace offering. Instead of shaking it, I delved into my bag- I'd never even put it down, choosing to lay it in my lap instead- searching for something that I'd just remembered I still had. It took some searching, but finally I found it. After Halloween, I'd washed, starched, and pressed Nick's handkerchief, then folded it into a small, tight, bright white square and stuffed it into the side pocket of my bag. It was still pretty clean after spending seven full months in my bag, just a little dusty and wrinkled. I quickly beat the dust out of it, back into my bag, where he couldn't see; then, I straightened it out as best as I could. Finally, I drew the cloth from my bag and put it in his hand. "Truce!"

A smile broke onto his face as he stuffed the handkerchief into his shirt pocket. It half-drooped out, white cloth on white shirt next to white sling. "Thanks. I wondered where that went."

Just then, an uproarious cheer broke out on the other side of the stadium. One of the Gryffindor Chasers- a small, thin Asian girl with long dark hair- had just scored. Apparently Nick and I had missed his House's first goal, because the score was now twenty to ten with the Lions in the lead.

Nick jumped up, screaming his head off and waving the end of his red-and-gold scarf like a flag. "Go, Gryffindor!" he bellowed. I could feel pairs upon pairs of eyes turn to the crazy lone Gryffindor on the Ravenclaw side as well as the curly-haired Ravenclaw first-year girl he was sitting with. I cringed.

Nick turned to me, face alight, beautiful turquoise eyes sparkling. "Hear that, Salinger? Your team's going to go up in _smoke!_ "

"Maybe we're going to _smoke_ you!" I retorted, having to hide my smile. No matter what truce we agreed to, Nick Justice and I would always disagree over _something_. We had a natural banter. The two of us weren't enemies- never really had been and never would be, hopefully. It was just the natural order for two headstrong souls like Nick and me to clash. And I was fine with that.

My team did indeed _go up in smoke_ , to put it in Nick's somewhat crude words. We lost, three hundred to two hundred and eighty. That bloody Gryffindor Seeker had caught the Snitch when we were one hundred and thirty points ahead! Gah.

As Nick- who'd chosen to sit the whole game with me- hurried off to find his friends with one last victorious _whoop_ , us girls began to straggle back up to Hogwarts. There were only three days left of our first year. Monday was the last day of classes, to get a mini-head start on our classes for the next year. Fifth-years and seventh-years, of course, had the day off. Then, on Tuesday morning, we would all board the train and head back home. I couldn't wait, but at the same time, I knew that Hogwarts too was a home to me. Sure, it was crazy at times, and sure, my first year had been pretty mad, but I loved this castle.

I spotted Will, Art, Kevin, Eric, Nick, Conor, and the rest of that group of first-year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw boys walking ahead. Tuning in to the girls' conversation, I wasn't surprised to hear that it was a discussion about the handsome and talented Gryffindor Seeker (led by who else but Rossalene and Helen). Rolling my jade eyes again, I hurried to catch up with the males instead.

"Hey, Aly!" Will said merrily when I fell into step next to Kevin. His smile seemed a little forced- I briefly wondered why. "Are you going to try out for Chaser next year, like Sir Sutherland suggested?"

I wrinkled my pale nose in mild disgust. "No, I don't think so. I'd rather go for Beater instead."

"But Will and Isaiah will be the Beaters, we all know that," Art chimed in. The Gryffindors split off, saying something about going back to their common room for a winners' celebration. "You've got no chance!"

I folded my arms and glared Art down, with his caramel skin and curly hair and dark, dark eyes. "Who says Will'll be the Beater alongside Isaiah? Maybe it'll be _me!_ Will can barely even _fly!_ "

 _Bam!_

Will's palms slammed into my shoulders, sending me stumbling backwards into Eric. Both of us crashed to the ground. Kevin rushed over and helped his friend extricate himself from me. The two of them tried to help me up, but Will was instantly standing over me, his foot on my shoulder. The other three boys scattered, then came back to form a circle around us, Art at the lead of Will's pack.

"I've had _enough_ of you, Aly!" Will hissed. My head whipped from side to side, but no one was paying attention to the girl on the ground surrounded by first-year boys, not even my friends, who had stopped a while back and were chattering on the side of the path way behind us. I gulped.

 _No one's going to help me._

"With your innocent act and your bloody holier-than-thou attitude… ooh, I'm just _sick_ of it!" He stomped his foot- the one that had been pinning my slender shoulder down- on the ground beside my head. I flinched, hoping my terror didn't show. It was just Will, right? I had no need to be afraid of him.

Slowly, I watched the blonde's face soften. He leaned down and helped me to my feet. Even though it was quite warm out, I was shivering.

Will patted me on the shoulder. His eyes had changed. They were steely blue, suspicious even. "Sorry, Aly, I know I'm in a bad mood this morning," he apologized with a half-affable grin. "Walk with me back up to the castle?"

We walked back up to the castle, Art, Eric, and Kevin having disappeared. Right before we entered the doors, Will pulled me off to the side and into a hug, out of the view of the people entering the doors. At first I hugged him back, thinking he was offering a truce, just like Nick had- but when he began to whisper into my ear, I stiffened.

"Listen, Aly, I don't want to be your enemy. You're smart and you're an okay person, you know? But no _girl_ is going to beat a Greene boy out of anything. We're the smartest pureblood family in all of England, and I might not know how to fly right now, but you can bet your arse that I'll come back on September first with the best broom money can buy _and_ flying skills that are unmatched by the likes of _you_. I don't want to drag you down, but I will if I have to. So just stay out of my way. Or else."

He released me, turned, and ran into Hogwarts to catch up with his friends.

I slumped against the wall, eyes shut. Two threats in less than a week. Had I been making enemies this whole time? Had they been under my nose, secretly hating me, while I'd been completely oblivious to their rage?

I felt a tap on my shoulder and whirled around, fists clenched. But it was only Leja, Brooklyn's best friend in Slytherin, and Brooklyn herself. I forced my hands to relax.

Leja arched a dark, thin eyebrow. "So, are you and Will Greene… a _thing?_ "

Brooklyn wrinkled her nose.

My eye twitched involuntarily and I shuddered. "Oh, _definitely_ not."

Leja's lips pursed. They were stained with some sort of dark purple cosmetic, and she looked sort of ridiculous, but she also looked kind of older and more glamorous. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "Absolutely positive."

 **One more chapter to go, guys. I hoped you liked these set-ups for later conflicts!**

 **As usual, please let me know your thoughts in that lovely little review box below!**

 **~atrfla**


	22. Chapter 22: An Epilogue of Sorts

"Peltie?"

The Owlery was a funny place. That tall tower, the West Tower, had no glass in the windows lining the walls of the room at its top, making the whole room very chilly even in early June. Plus, the whole space was incredibly filthy. Straw, water, owl droppings, and some dead animals- a few were even half-eaten- littered every inch of free space on the floor. Finally, the Owlery was loud and crowded full of owls in cubbyholes on the walls and in the rafters. I couldn't see Peltie anywhere in the mess of feathers- and the Owlery wasn't even as full as it usually was, because most students had already come and claimed their pets.

"Peltie?" I called again. "The train leaves in two and a half hours! It's time to go home!"

There was a familiar screech of a Northern Saw-Whet owl, and Peltie swooped out from behind a clump of Hogwarts-owned pygmy owls and landed on my shoulder with a ruffle of her dark feathers. Her talons dug into my flesh, and I winced accordingly.

Peltie screeched happily as I fed her an Owl Treat, walking out of the Owlery and climbing down the stairs. _I guess we're both happy to leave that mess and noise behind._

Back in the dormitory, my friends were finishing packing up. I opened the window to let Peltie fly outside for a little while. "Stretch your wings while we go to breakfast, okay? Just stay close so I can call you back when I'm boarding the Hogwarts Express."

Peltie hooted her agreement, promptly using my shoulder as a launch pad. I sighed, watching her flap off through the space.

"Your owl is so smart," Millie complimented me from where she was searching under her bed for any lost trinkets.

"And her feathers!" Helen sighed, pulling books off of her bookshelves and stacking them neatly in the corner of her trunk. She grabbed one such tome and tossed it to me- I caught it, surprised to find that it was my copy of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble, and stuffed it in my own overflowing trunk. "Such a pretty pattern, the white on the dark brown background."

"I think Peltie's a very pretty owl in general," Lanie said. She was the only one of us who was completely packed, so she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, keeping Mary and Carrie occupied as the rest of us checked that we weren't leaving anything behind (with the exception of Helen, who was just now packing her things). After all, we'd be in a completely different dormitory next year.

"Come on, mates," Shawnee said matter-of-factly from the doorway, "we're going to be late for breakfast. And _all_ creatures are beautiful."

"I don't disagree," I told her as the six of us headed down to breakfast in one big clump. I was surprised Polly was with us, but when we sat down at the very front of the Ravenclaw table she had vanished. I craned my neck and saw her sitting on the other side of the table about halfway down it, next to a clump of third-years. That girl was _strange._

Breakfast that morning was a terribly simple affair, nothing like the extravagant end-of-the-year feast that the professors had put on the previous night. There, we had eaten international delicacies as well as delicious proper British food as we applauded Slytherin House's win of the House Cup, despite the fact that Gryffindor had won Quidditch this year. This morning, muffins, pastries, and savory breakfast foods were the only things covering the four House tables. I didn't care that the food was so ordinary. It would be our very last meal as first-years.

I grabbed a raspberry pastry from a pile that was nearly as tall as Polly and settled into my seat beside Lanie to eat it.

Helen, who was sitting across from me, leaned forward. Her long golden-brown hair nearly fell into a platter of eggs, but Millie brushed it off of her shoulders just in time. "So… there's something I want to tell you all."

Lanie frowned and pushed a piece of fried potato onto her fork. "Is something wrong, Helen?"

"No, no!" my cousin assured her. "I just wanted to let you know that you're all coming home with me after King's Cross- all four of you, and Polly, Lea, Lorie, Elysa, Sami, Juliet, and Liana!"

I did a quick count on my fingers. "Twelve kids? In one car? Can we all fit?"

"It's going to be an Engorged car from the Ministry," Helen explained rapidly, popping a bite of crumpet into her mouth and speaking around it. "Mum put in a spefial requetht at work."

Shawnee threw her hands into the air, nearly displacing Lanie's plate. "I think we're all missing the _real_ question here!" She folded her arms. " _Why_ are we going home with you, Helen?"

Helen instantly grinned, her eyes glittering, and swallowed. "Today's my birthday, and you're all coming to my party!"

There were gasps of shock from all three of us- it appeared that Millie already knew. I had completely forgotten about Helen's birthday, June fourth, even though I'd attended her party every year. Normally it was full of neighborhood kids and Helen just hung out with me and Millie, her two best friends- this would be the first year that kids from _school_ , from outside Rowena's Borough, would attend the celebration.

Lanie and Shawnee hadn't even known it was Helen's birthday; they peppered her with questions (well, _Lanie_ peppered her with questions, while Shawnee ate her food and occasionally cut in with a practical question like _Do our parents know?_ ) and happy-birthday wishes. Lanie lamented that they hadn't gotten her a present. My present for Helen, which I'd had since the previous August after our trip to Diagon Alley and had considered using for Christmas but had decided against giving to her so soon, was sitting wrapped up in my room at home. I made a mental note to grab it when I dropped off my trunks at my house. Helen had always been pretty vain when it came to her appearance, so it annoyed her to no end when every summer the Salinger genes in her hair came alive and made the mane bushy and frizzy. Normally she just tied it back and hoped for the best, but I'd finally found a cheap stock of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion at Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions, a place that neither of us had ever been allowed to shop from until our first year at Hogwarts. Helen would love the gift.

"Shouldn't we tell the others?" Millie cut in, interrupting Lanie's excited spiel.

"The Gryffindors already know." Helen waved her off.

"But Polly," Millie pointed out. "She's not sitting with us."

Helen blushed pale pink, glancing to the empty seat on Millie's other side. "Oh yes! I forgot about her. Hang on, I'll go tell her. Come with me, Millie?"

Helen and Millie stood up and walked away, and I didn't see them again until King's Cross Station. I left Hogwarts for the summer in a compartment with Brooklyn, Rossalene, Maycott, and Peltie, the same way I'd first arrived at Hogwarts the previous September. The three of us spent the whole train ride back eating candy, practicing spells before we would no longer be allowed to do so for the summer, and rehashing our crazy year.

"What was your favorite part?" Rossalene asked us right after the trolley came by, reaching for a pumpkin pasty.

Brooklyn across from us answered immediately. "Getting a sword."

"Did you even get to keep it?" I laughed through a bite of Cauldron Cake. Many things had changed about me in the past nine months, but my candy preferences had not.

Brooklyn's cheeks flushed a light red. "No, but I carved my initials into the hilt with Tommy's sword and made sure I knew which suit of armor it was returned to!" She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Maybe I'll sneak it home after our seventh year!"

"What did _you_ like, Ross?" I asked the pretty girl beside me, needing more time to choose a favorite part of my own.

She beamed. "Making so many new friends! I love making friends, and all of the girls in my dormitory are so _nice-_ "

Brooklyn and I exchanged dubious looks, no doubt thinking of the exact same _not_ -nice blonde Hufflepuff girl, before my cousin rolled her eyes. " _Besides_ that," she said.

I added, "The _abnormal_ stuff."

Rossalene hummed a little tune as she thought. "Oh… well, I did really kind of enjoy finding the Fat Lady. Everyone in the school knew my name for a few days. Two boys even asked me for my autograph!" Her smile grew wider and brighter. "One of them was from Hufflepuff, he's a third-year, and he said that although Hufflepuffs are good at finding things he'd never seen anything like what I'd done. That was rather fun."

Brooklyn laughed and we pretended for a moment to be Rossalene's adoring fans, kneeling on the compartment floor in front of her, begging for autographs. Giggling, Ross drew a quill and ink from her bag and carefully signed the scraps of parchment we held out to her. In the shaky train, her handwriting was positively horrendous and she nearly spilled the ink all over me, but none of us cared. We returned to our seats. I stowed the dry autograph in the side pocket of my schoolbag, a smile still on my face.

It vanished when Brooklyn kicked me from across the compartment, and not gently, either. "So, Aly, what was _your_ favorite part?"

 _Not dying_ , my brain offered. _Saving the school. Saving Ella Nguyen. Classes. The Ravenclaw common room. Making friends. Making friends with Nick…_

"I liked Peeves being nice," I finally mumbled. The instant I'd touched the Founders' Sword to the spirit mirror, everything had gone back to normal at Hogwarts. Obviously that meant the suits of armor had gone back to being inanimate, but also paintings stopped going crazy, staircases and classrooms ceased to vanish, the bulletin boards in common rooms cleared of tainted gossip, the thestrals disappeared from our vision, and, of course, the ghosts had returned to complete normal. Nearly Headless Nick had appeared the next day apologizing profusely for his horrid behavior, and Peeves had gone right back to making the enchanted candles in the Great Hall drip hot wax on unsuspecting students below, his kind and helpful demeanor (as well as his ever-changing supply of nice hats) gone. According to Tommy, Peeves had stopped trying to help the students fight the suits of armor as they collapsed, then he'd zoomed down the hall cackling and throwing parts of armor into the air. "It was like he'd gone back to being totally _mad_ , Aly," he'd told me after our Transfiguration exam.

Brooklyn barked out a short laugh. "Yes, there was that. I wish he could've stayed that way longer. Maybe whatever stopped all of the knights also reverted Peeves and the paintings and the staircases back to normal." She tore the wrapper off a Chocolate Frog and bit off the wriggling sweet treat's head. I winced through my eggnog-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean from Rossalene, trying not to let my shrewd cousin know how close she'd come to the truth.

As we pulled into King's Cross, I almost glued myself to the window to look for my parents, but they weren't there. I'd forgotten that Uncle Walt and Aunt Breya were picking me up with the rest of Helen's guests. I spotted the pair standing at the back of the crowds, my uncle holding up a large white banner that read _Happy Birthday, Helen!_ in glittering pink script. Brooklyn saw it too, and elbowed me from where she was also crouched next to the window. "I heard about that! I wish I'd been invited, but of course I don't know Helen all that well. Are you excited?"

"So excited," I whispered back. "It's going to be our last hurrah as first-years."

"No," she corrected me knowingly. "It's going to be your _first_ hurrah as _second-_ years!"

Platform nine and three-quarters was very crowded, as it had been in September. I tried to hang on to Peltie's cage and my trunk as tightly as I could as I ducked and dodged my way over to Aunt Breya and Uncle Walt. They had twelve carts behind them, and I loaded my things into one. I tapped my father's tiny sister's shoulder and hugged her wispy frame tightly, but just then, Helen appeared and my auntie detached herself from me, running with her tall, hulking husband to hug their daughter.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. Rossalene, accompanied by her family- her parents and ten-year-old brother- stood there smiling. I shook her father's hand, but was surprised when Mrs. Chung pulled me into a hug. Obviously, her daughter took after her.

"We have heard so much about you, Alyssa," she gushed in her thick Chinese accent. Even at twelve, I was taller than her, but her hugs made up in fierceness for her size. "It is so nice to meet one of our Rossalene's best friends!"

Mr. Chung's accent was even thicker than that of his wife. "Rossalene says you prefer to be called Aline?"

"Aly," I corrected.

"Aline!" he agreed.

Rossalene murmured into my ear, and for the first time I detected a hint of an accent creeping into her voice. Maybe it came out more thickly around her family. "He's apparently been mispronouncing your name ever since I first spoke about you in a letter home, according to Joshua. Don't mind Da." She rose her voice and spoke to her parents and brother. "Want to meet Brooklyn, Mum, Da? I think I see her over there!"

The Chungs had just vanished into the roiling crowd when I felt _another_ hand on my arm. I turned to see yet another family, a pair of parents and a student in my year and a younger sibling. Unlike the impromptu visit from Rossalene's family, this one surprised me.

Nick's father was tall, stocky, and had no hair. His bushy eyebrows hid kindly dark brown eyes, and he wore an old Gryffindor scarf around his neck.

Nick's mother was tall too, but not nearly as tall as her husband; she was absolutely beautiful, with dark red hair and a regal curved nose and those sparkling turquoise eyes that had been her son's defining factor for me at the beginning of the school year. She held herself with no trace of her son's current defining factor for me, his playful cockiness.

Finally, Nick's little sister was practically a little version of his mum, just with her father's eyes. She smiled at me from her father's arms, her grin missing a few teeth despite how little she was.

Nick cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to him. Judging by the color of Mr. Justice's eyebrows, my friend's golden-brown locks had been some kind of mutation.

"I just wanted to introduce you to my family, since you, ya know, saved my life," Nick said pointedly.

"I said we were even," I reminded him. "Truce, remember?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Fine. Since we're _friends_ now." He turned to his mum. "Aly, this is my mother, Lena Justice-Yeardley."

His mum extended a hand. She was carrying Nick's trunk for him, and it looked heavy, so I marveled at her strength as I shook it. "Pleased to meet ye, Aly. We've heard a lot about ye."

 _Theme of the day_. I smiled as I dropped her hand. "Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Justice."

"Please," she corrected, "call me Lena."

Nick gestured up to Lena's husband. "This is my stepfather, Alvin Yeardley. He's her actual father," he said quietly so no one but me could hear, his hand flicking toward his little sister.

His stepfather- _that makes far more sense, he must have gotten his hair color from his_ real _father_ \- nodded and smiled, making his heavily shadowed yet somehow nice eyes twinkle. "Nick's done his fair share of talking about you, Aly," he said in an incredibly deep voice, switching Nick's little sister to his other arm so he too could shake my hand properly. "Or is it Lyss?"

"Oh, it's Aly," I assured him, shaking his hand quickly and making sure to step hard on Nick's foot as I did so. The Gryffindor boy winced, but he was laughing.

"Aly, then," Mr. Justice- no, _Mr. Yeardley_ \- agreed.

Nick sighed, but his face lit up when he realized who was last to be introduced. "And Aly, this is my little sister-"

"I'm Toni!" chirped the little girl, who looked to be about five or six years younger than us. She had a bright, innocent, gap-toothed smile that lit up the surrounding area, and had obviously been waiting her turn quite impatiently to introduce herself.

" _Antonia_ ," Nick finished.

I smiled at the Justice-Yeardleys. "It's very nice to meet you all. Your son's a very… uh… _interesting person_."

Nick scowled at me jokingly.

"If by _interesting_ , ye mean _conceited_ ," teased Mrs.- _Lena._ She playfully nudged her son, who wrinkled his nose back at her.

"Annoying!" added Toni, sticking out her tongue at Nick.

"Aly!"

I turned on my heel to see Aunt Breya, Uncle Walt, Helen, Millie, and the rest of my fellow partygoers waiting in a big group by the exit of Platform 9¾. My full cart, Peltie hooting loudly from her cage atop my trunk, stood alone between us.

Helen waved at me. "It's time to go!"

"Say good-bye to your _boyfriend_ ," Lea snarked. The group of girls burst into giggles. Only Elysa and Lanie did not look amused.

I looked over my shoulder at Nick, then grinned, waved good-bye to his family, and ran towards my friends at top speed, snagging my cart along the way. Peltie squawked at my speed, so I slowed slightly, barreling into the group of girls yet trying not to hit anyone. They scattered, but laughed.

"Since you so want speed, Aly," Aunt Breya allowed with a gentle smile, "why don't you go through first?"

I chanced a glance behind me. Mr. Yeardley, Lena, and Tori were already moving away from the spot we'd been standing in, but Nick was lingering behind. We locked eyes. Green, turquoise.

I raised my hand and waved furiously at my newest friend. "See you next year!"

He opened his mouth to reply, and I whirled around and sprinted through the brick pillar. There was that cool sensation, like lukewarm water washing over me on a hot day yet leaving me bone dry, and I burst into the Muggle section of King's Cross Station with a smile on my face and Nick's shouted reply ringing in my ears.

"See you next year!"

 **Aaaand... witches and wizards, Muggles and Squibs, that marks the** ** _end_** **of the third installment of the Salinger Year series, Aly's first year at Hogwarts.**

 **I finished writing this story on April 12, 2016. I finished typing it up on May 30th earlier this year. It's been almost two years of writing** ** _First Year_** **, and it's been a blast!**

 **You guys are lucky- "next year" for our beloved protagonist means "tomorrow" for you! That's right, I will have the very first chapter of Second Year up sometime tomorrow- June 11, 2017. It'll be the birthday of Zachary Henson (if you don't properly know who that is, he** ** _is_** **introduced in this story, but I'd recommend you go and read the second installment** ** _Fourth Year_** **to really catch up on this wonderful character) as well as my half-birthday!**

 **I'm already roughly twelve chapters into** ** _Second Year_** **, so we** ** _should_** **be able to continue with this once-a-week posting schedule I've got going on. See my profile for details!**

 **As usual, my wonderful readers,** **I adore you all** **. Most of you have been with Aly since she first climbed out of the Hogwarts Express for her fifth year at the academy, and you've stuck with her through character flaws, Mary-Sue-ism, bad reviews, bad writing, and every little problem my OC has had to go through. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much. You are the best readers a girl could ever have.**

 **See you tomorrow!**

 **~atrfla**


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